Blood Lies: Retributions
by November S
Summary: The second book! Robot monkies, mysterious visitors, and a prophecy long forgotten. Gohan's journey is not over yet, and his greatest issue is the father who walked away. Can he triumph again?
1. Chapter 1

Blood Lies: Retributions

Chapter 1

"Got the Chance to Start Again"

- 'Someday' by Crossfade

_Thank you for joining me for the second book! Let me know what you think. This one picks up right where the other ended._

_Warning: Violence later._

Gohan curled his arms around his drawn up knees as Goku sighed, tossed another dry piece of timber on the fire, and sat down beside him.

"Kinda chilly, isn't it?" He asked. Gohan shrugged his shoulders in reply, the flames mirrored in his glassy eyes as he stared at them. Goku felt lost, so lost in fact that he bit his lip and simply watched the teenager across from him. They had found a cave that was tucked up in a range of trees nearby where he had moved them to.

"Well, how 'bout we get some sleep and start fresh in the morning?" He asked. Gohan shifted his position and laid down on his side, still starring into the crackling flames. Goku watched his son through the fire until the teenager's eyes drifted shut. Settling down on his side, Goku laid awake for a while, watching the boy as he slept.

Some time later, Goku jumped awake, his heart pumping. He glanced about the cave and saw that the fire was embers now and on the opposite side, his son was curled tightly into himself, ragged cries echoing off of the cave walls. The teenager's face was crumpled and filled with a grief that still pulled against Goku's heartstrings.

He quickly rose and scooted closer to Gohan, laying his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Gohan," he murmured, brushing away the ebony strands of hair that feathered across his son's brow. "Wake up now, son; I'm here." Gohan's eyes popped open and he sat straight up, his arms cinching tightly around his own chest as if staving off the cold. He moaned low in his throat and clenched his eyes closed.

"Gohan," Goku began, "will you tell me what you were dreaming about?" A spasm of pain crumpled Gohan's face again before it relaxed and he opened his eyes to stare at the bare ground between them.

"Just one more page out of my book," the teenager whispered. Goku cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Gohan swallowed and hunched tighter into himself but did not answer. Goku shifted closer, their hips touching as he brought his knees up and rested his elbows there. He stared at the dying embers and sighed before he lifted his hand, leveled it at the bare wood, and shot a tiny ki blast, igniting the timber. The glow from the burning wood danced from one side of the small cave to the other.

"Gohan, I know I've made bad choices, but I do love you and would really like to know what you were dreaming about." Gohan's eyes lifted to the fire.

"I see where I've been," the teenager whispered. "Only it's worse."

Goku remained quietly watching the fire lick and burn away the dried wood, patiently waiting for Gohan to continue.

"You don't save us," he whispered.

"You saved everyone that day with Cell, Gohan," Goku murmured. Gohan stiffened and turned on his father, his eyes blazing.

"Yeah, I must have done really well considering that I almost got everyone killed!" He snapped. Goku sighed and shook his head.

"Gohan, you were eleven years old and with all of our training, you still had none of the experience or drive that you needed to help you win that fight; that is my fault and I'm sorry."

"That's no excuse," the teenager whispered forcefully. "You told me to finish him."

"Is that all that's in your dream, Gohan?" Goku asked. The teenager stilled. Goku noticed the ridged way his back straightened and frowned. "Gohan, what else do you dream about?"

"Nothing," was the teenager's curt reply. Goku sighed.

"I thought we had gotten over this, Gohan," he whispered, a frown on his face. Gohan stood abruptly and stalked across the cave.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said, sitting down on the ground with his back against the wall. He stretched his legs out and leaned his head back against the wall.

"Sometimes, son, we have to do things we really don't want to do." Goku replied.

"Right, you're going to tell me now that you didn't really want to stay dead, you just did it to save everyone from the harm that your presence brought, right?" Gohan snorted. Goku sighed, frustrated and unsure of what to say.

"I just did what I thought was best, Gohan, and I'm very sorry for making that decision; I know now that it was a mistake." Gohan snorted again and crossed his arms across his chest defensively. Goku stood and walked to his son, determination shinning in his eyes. He knelt down before the teenager and grasped his arms in each hand. Gohan flinched away, his eyes wary and guarded. Goku tugged him into his chest and brought his arms up to press him tightly against him. He lifted his left hand to cradle the back of Gohan's head, weaving his fingers into the dark hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Gohan I'm not perfect," he said. "I know I've been on a pedestal in your eyes for years, and maybe that's normal for boys to idolize their fathers, but I'm not perfect.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, Gohan, I really did not mean to, but I promise if you will let me, we'll get past this." Gohan remained silent, his arms limp beside him. His emotions were still screwed and confused, but something about being in his father's arms eased the deep ache, although he was nearly positive that he would never admit it to another soul.

"Will you tell me your dream?" Gohan closed his eyes and inhaled his father's smell.

"You said I wasn't worth saving," he whispered. "You said that I made my mistakes and I could deal with the consequences. Cell laughed and you walked away." Goku's heart twisted around within him and he tightened his hold on his son.

"Why were you so angry with me when I came back?" Goku asked. Gohan made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and tried to push away, but his father was still stronger than him.

"You know why," he muttered, aggravated. Goku nodded.

"Yeah, but I want you to tell me."

"You left. I screwed up and you chose to stay dead." Gohan stiffened, his shoulders hunching. "And then when you came back, you just assumed everything was the same as it always had been; you wanted to 'be dad' again.

"But why did you come back, Dad? Why did you come back?" Goku tightened his arms around his son and thought for a minute. When he spoke next, his voice was low, right next to Gohan's ear.

"Ever since the fight with Vegeta, Gohan, you knew deep down that I would always be there when you needed me. I saved you from Nappa, showing up right when you needed me; the same thing happened on Namek, Gohan, and do you know why?" Gohan remained still, content with listening to the reverberation in his father's chest.

"Because you're my child, Gohan, and I will fight for you; to keep you safe even if that means I have to fight you to do it. King Yema told me what you had been doing and I knew that you needed me again, so I came back. For you." Gohan lifted his eyes, his mouth opening in surprise. Goku smiled at him, love shining brightly in the dark orbs.

"They gave me the chance to come back and I took it because you needed me, Gohan, just like when you were younger," he said. He kissed the top of Gohan's head.

"I promise, Gohan, that everything will be okay, but you have to help me. Don't just keep everything inside, talk to me when you're hurting and I'll try to make it better." He combed his fingers through Gohan's hair and listened to the teenager's heartbeat.

"You have no idea how hard it was to fight you yesterday, Gohan," he whispered. "Even knowing it was probably the only thing I could do to reach you again, it still broke my heart because you are my son and I love you; I fight _for_ you, Gohan, I don't want to fight _against_ you."

Goku held Gohan and for an extended moment, there was silence in the cave, but for the twin steady heartbeats. The teenager remained limp, his arms down as his father held him, stroking a hand up and down his spine, and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Goku closed his eyes and pushed Gohan away with a hand on either shoulder, and met his eyes.

"No more, son," he said firmly. "You did your best with Cell and did you worst to me because you were hurting.

"Honestly, I'd much rather you hurt me over hurting yourself," Goku continued, giving Gohan such a look of disappointment that the teenager winced. He looked at the floor of the cave instead, a lump in his throat.

"Gohan," Goku murmured. He tucked his first two fingers under his son's chin and angled it up to meet his own eyes. "Please promise that you won't ever cut yourself again. If you are ever mad at me, just come to me and we'll work it out."

Gohan nodded once, his shoulders hunched into himself. Goku shook him gently, catching his attention.

"Promise, Gohan," the warrior demanded, his voice growing more insistent. "I need to know that you know that you can't do what you used to do; things are going to have to be different now than they were before."

Gohan nodded again, but his expression was still much too blank for Goku. He tightened his hold on the teenager's arms. Gohan winced, his brow furrowing between his eyes at the mild pain in his biceps. He raised his eyes to meet his father's in a glare that was almost defiant. Goku smiled softly and cupped his cheeks in warm palms, sending an ache reverberating through Gohan's chest.

"I promise," he choked out, his dark eyes misting over at the naked love in Goku's expression. Against his will, moisture leaked out and ran down his cheeks to drip from his chin, but before they could escape, his father brushed them away.

"I love you, Gohan, and I am so proud that you're my son," he whispered. Gohan swallowed hard, his face twisted into a mask of emotion. Goku pulled him against his chest again, and this time, felt his heart thud with joy as the teenager brought his own arms up and returned the embrace fully.

DBZ

Son Goku sat with his knees propped up before him, his elbows using them as a place to rest, and watched as the sun ascended into the sky for a fifth morning since he had taken his son away. Although not normally a very introspective, nor poetic man, Goku still contemplated the past days, recalling with a startling clarity every tiny detail of his son's movements, expressions, and words.

After they had awoken and left the cave, Goku had drawn his son into the air and they had flown, slowly making their way to a deserted place that Goku felt was far enough away to feed his purpose. Thus they had arrived in the beautiful rolling hills they had camped at for the past few days. He currently sat on the tip of a grassy hill, his back to their campsite and his son, who still slept. Finally.

Goku sighed and tilted his head backwards, looking up at the lilac colored morning sky and remembered the restless, sleepless nights past, thankful that his teenager slept—at last free from the visions within himself.

They had not sparred once since they had left—something Goku felt was appropriate for the teenager's wellbeing. Instead, they had flown side by side from one end of the globe to the other; fished like they used to; and talked nearly constantly. Goku learned so much about the child that he had nearly destroyed. More than he had started with, that was for sure.

Most of all, he thought about the mistakes that he had made both during the Cell Games, and recently. He recognized now that he should never have sent Gohan to face Cell alone; especially not after giving the damn monster a Senzu bean. Goku shook his head in disgust as he remembered what Piccolo had told him after he had done that, and with a wry smile, he accepted that the green man had known his child better than he had. He had always loved the challenge and never backed down. He lived for the fight, but he also knew what it meant to fight for something. Gohan was too young and inexperienced to have fought and won against Cell on his own. While he possessed the raw ki to vanquish him instantly, he lacked the confidence and the experience to do it—for crying out loud he was only eleven years old!

_I should have known better,_ he thought to himself. He had a second chance now, though, and he was not about to screw it up again. He had seen what it had done to his firstborn and if he had to correct it for the rest of his life, he would. These children were _his_ to protect. _His_ family and friends. _He_ was the adult and he would make for damn sure that the next time, his son would not fight alone.

DBZ

Gohan took a deep breath and woke up, his eyes felt rested and open with no trace of the near constant grit that had been there for the last few days. He sat up and curled his legs up beneath him as he glanced around, curious what it was that woke him. It was still early morning; the sky above a cool combination of blue yellow, with the sun's first glimpse of daylight peeking over the horizon. He searched the tiny campsite around him, wondering where his father was, but as soon as the question entered his mind, he felt his father's warm ki curl around him, warming him before he caught sight of the man's broad back. Goku turned and smiled at him.

"Good morning, Gohan," he said. Gohan shifted and yawned, his eyes still glued to his father as if making sure he did not move away.

"Morning," he replied. Goku stood and walked back into their campsite.

"Ready for breakfast?" He asked happily. Gohan smiled back tentatively and nodded his head. The few days that they had been out, Gohan had slowly grown more comfortable with his father's presence. They had had many conversations on his most recent behavior as well as the past, and he had slowly felt himself begin to change into someone more balanced.

"I'm going to go wash my face first," he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. Goku smiled at him.

On his way to the river that wound through the landscape a few yards away from their campsite, the teenager considered the most recent change in his life. He felt as if he had lived several different lives instead of just the one very confusing one. He and his father had talked about the Cell Games and the disastrous effects of _that_.

The teenager knelt beside the cool, fresh water and cupped his hands, bringing the refreshing water up to his lips for a drink before he repeated the action and splashed his face. With water dripping in streams down his face, and droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes, Gohan snapped his eyes open and glanced around him in sudden alarm. Something tingled on the outskirts of his senses. Alarm shot through him, leaving fear winding into his gut. The silence around him blared and with a sense of fear, he realized that there were no animals making noise: no birds singing, no footsteps of animals, no nothing.

He turned suddenly, terror making its way up his spine, intending to hurry back to his father when something hard exploded against the back of his head, sending the world end over end and plunging into darkness. His last thoughts drifted off before they could get far.

_Dad, help me…_

DBZ

Gohan came slowly back to consciousness. The back of his head ached along with the back of his neck. He lifted his right hand and weakly gripped the back of his neck, the pads of his fingers kneading the muscles there. Slowly, like the morning he awoke with his father and Piccolo in the room, he tried to blink his eyes open and groaned as he sat up. His memory returned like a bolt of lightning, and with a thread of remembered terror, he wrenched his eyes open and looked around, surprised when he realized that he was lying in his own bed, the sunlight echoing off of the walls around him.

_What the hell_? He thought to himself. Something whispered that this was off, but he could not for the life of him figure out what that was. He threw the covers off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed, straining his ears to hear anything. Laughter from outside the house drew him to the window in his room. He stood, his legs trembling a little as he walked to the window. Outside, his baby brother ran in circles as Goku chased him. Chichi watched and laughed and again, Gohan had the most alarming feeling that something was just not right. He swallowed hard.

Outside his window, Goku looked up and caught him in a smile. He waved and beckoned the teenager to join him outside. Gohan, feeling confusion blooming within him, turned and left his room, wandering through his parent's home and out the door toward his parents.

"Go'an!" His little brother cried from where he was. He ran at him and let the teenager pluck him up off the ground. Chichi approached and wrapped him in a hug.

"How do you feel sweetheart?" She asked, her eyes sparkling and bright. Gohan shrugged and looked from his father back to his mother.

"Okay," he offered. He looked at his father, his eyebrows arched. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Goku asked. He reached forward and ran his fingers through Goten's hair, ruffling the thick black strands and making the little boy giggle from where he perched in his brother's hands.

"What happened at the river?" Gohan asked. Goku looked confused, but grinned widely and shrugged his shoulders. "What hit me?"

"Gohan, honey, I'm sure it was just a dream," Chichi offered, taking the little boy from his arms. Gohan felt a thrill of irritation run through his chest.

"Mom, it wasn't a dream! Remember me and dad went camping to...to talk and stuff?" Goku hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him closer affectionately.

"Cool down, Gohan, everything's fine," his father said. Gohan shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. "Come on, let's go eat some supper!"

Goku tugged him closer before he stepped away and turned toward the house where Chichi was with Goten in her arms.

"Dad, wait!" Gohan called. "Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

"Gohan, nothing happened!" His father replied, turning and pinning him with a curious expression. "We haven't been camping in a couple months!" Gohan's breath caught in his chest at those words and he stopped still, staring at his father.

"Wha—what? What do you mean? We went after—after our fight." Confusion pulled heavily against the teenager as his father tilted his head to the side and watched him.

"We didn't have a fight, Gohan," he replied. "Are you feeling okay?"

Gohan's lips felt dry while his mouth felt as if it were filled with sawdust. He shook his head in the negative, squeezing his eyes closed. Goku wrapped his arms around the teenager.

"Don't worry, Gohan, everything's fine." Goku's voice held an odd, slightly hypnotic tone to it, and with alarm, Gohan realized that he was falling asleep again. His heart beat loudly within his own ears and he had a dull sense of vertigo as the world around his tilted. He felt his knees give way as he slumped in his father's arms, and as if he were under water, he heard Goku's voice again.

"Don't worry, everything's fine."

DBZ

As if he had just awakened from a nightmare, Gohan gasped and sat straight up in bed, his heart thudding against his ribs. Once again, he was tucked into his bed, but this time, the sunlight was dim and tinted blue. He gulped; his throat and mouth once again dry, this time painfully so. He swung his legs out from under the blankets and stepped across the room to his door and tugged it open, glancing curiously down the hallway before he went to the bathroom. He flicked on the light and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, mildly surprised to realize that he looked exactly the same as he always did. He turned the water on and greedily scooped water up to his mouth, desperate to quench the horrible dryness in his mouth and throat, but the cool water quenched neither his thirst nor the drought in his mouth.

"What are you doing out of your room?" A voice from the open doorway startled Gohan so badly, he sloshed the water in his hands over the sink and onto the clean tiles of the bathroom floor. He looked up and met his father's face, but the familiar face was odd and with a pinch of alarm, Gohan felt dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"I needed a drink," he replied, watching his father warily. Goku's eyes were darker, and his face thin and hard, more foreign and alien than the last time he woke up. More like Vegeta's.

"You're not supposed to be out of your room," Goku snapped. Gohan was so surprised by the sharp words that he took a step back, his eyes widening. He felt as if his world was starting to tilt upside down as he watched his father enter the bathroom, resembling a ferocious animal more than his loving, gentle father.

"I'm sorry," he said reflexively, confusion filling him. Goku's expression darkened into one of pure fury and with a jolt, Gohan realized that he looked more like Turles than Goku.

"I told you not to leave your room," he said, his voice had risen to the point of shouting. Gohan tried to swallow back his fear, but the dryness there prevented him. Suddenly, his father reached for him, grabbed him by the front of his gi and yanked him forward. Gohan cried out in surprise and pain as Goku slammed his fist into his middle.

"Dad," Gohan gasped. He doubled over and held his stomach, but he had no time to recover as his father fisted his hand into his hair and yanked it back up so quickly that his neck snapped painfully. His eyes widened fearfully at the evil, threatening glint in his father's eyes that promised pain.

"I told you to stay in your room," he growled. Gohan cried out as he was lifted by his hair and drug from the room and outside. He threw him once they got outside and the teenager felt a thrill of terror as he found himself airborne. Another jolt of horror shot through him as he realized that the Energy Block was back on his wrist. He caught himself just enough before he landed to keep himself from being too hurt, but his mind still reeled in total confusion.

"You will do as you are told!" His father roared as he charged at the teenager on the ground. The Saiyajin reached for him again and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, yanking him up face to face, the cloth tightening around his neck, choking him.

"Dad, please!" Gohan pleaded, his pulse racing and his mind turbulent with horrified confusion.

"It is too late for your pathetic whining! Take it like a man!" Goku drew back and punched at him, but Gohan was just fast enough to get past him. He was not fast enough to escape the second punch that broke at least two of his ribs, though. Gohan slumped on the ground, unable to catch his breath from the excruciating pain in his ribs. Through blurred vision, the teenager glanced up and saw another punch headed his way, this time directly for his face. Resigned, he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to wake up.

DBZ

It may have been hours, or it may have been days, or maybe even minutes. Gohan could not tell the length of time that he was out, all that he knew when he came too was that he had died at some point and had ended up in hell. Either that or his subconscious had been completely broken and he was hallucinating. He opened his eyes and with a groan, closed them again. He was, once again, tucked into his bed with sunlight peeking in and crawling across the floor. And once again, there was a sand castle in his mouth.

_Twinkle, Twinkle, little sun, don't this sound like so much fun?_

Oh yeah, he had lost his mind.

"Gohan?" The teenager jolted off the bed and stood facing his father as the man entered the room. Goku's expression was curious at the teenager's actions, not angry or furious. "Hey, Kiddo, I was just coming in to check on you; you've been asleep for a while."

"Oh," was all Gohan could think to say. Goku approached him, his eyes soft as he brought his hand up to cup his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay, son? You feel hot." His father's palm moved up to brush against his forehead. "Maybe you should go back to bed." Gohan moved out of his father's reach and tried to swallow against the dryness in his throat.

"No, that's okay," he said. Warily, he eyed the man, waiting for him to disappear and his evil twin to take his place. Goku smiled and turned to the door again.

"Well if you're up, your mom said come eat something," he threw over his shoulder. Gohan's stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of food, so he followed cautiously.

_I know I'm still dreaming, but maybe dream-food is better than dream-water,_ he thought to himself. He entered the kitchen and his jaw dropped in surprise at the amount of food in the room. It looked as if his mother were trying to feed them plus his grandfather's army. Feeding his father and himself was no easy task, but the over abundance of food in the room was alarming.

"Come on, Sweetheart, you must be starved!" Chichi chirped happily. Goten sat at the table already, his little fists clenched around a glass of cold, white, frothy, delicious milk. Gohan's mouth felt even drier than before. Goku sat beside his youngest and began filling two plates as Gohan moved farther into the room, drawn by the smells. He wished his mouth would react to the scrumptious smells.

_Water, damn you! Water!_

"Here you go, son," Goku said. He plunked a plate piled high with slow roasted pork, a mound of steamed rice, freshly steamed vegetables—most likely from his mother's garden—perfect looking potatoes that steamed slightly, and a baked apple something that made Gohan want to cry. He plunked himself down at the table and stared at the food, a voice warning him that he was about to be disappointed. He didn't care.

"Gohan, stop staring and eat it," his mother encouraged. Gohan's stomach grumbled again, and his mouth—if possible—felt even more parched. He picked up his chopsticks and snatched a hunk of the roasted pork, enthralled by the way it hung limply from the utensil. Juice dripped from the meat and the teenager once again begged his glands to work. He took a breath and stuck the meat in his mouth. The meat evaporated into nothing in his mouth, and with smiles on their faces, his family followed, evaporating into nothing. Gohan's only reality was the parched, desperate feel in his mouth and the dull ache in his stomach.

Before darkness replaced his vision, he heard himself scream.

DBZ

_This is getting old_, he thought as he came too again. Darkness covered his vision again and he immediately jerked straight up, grief filling him to find himself in his room again. The light filtering in was a pale blue again and the teenager put two and two together and cast a nervous glance at the doorway, expecting to see his father's evil twin this time. His door was open, but it was too dark in the hallway to see anything. The sensation of being watched crawled up his spine and he pulled his knees up to his chest to stare at the darkness beyond his door. He drew his breath in and out very quietly, nearly shallow in an effort to be as silent as possible, trying to hear whatever he could hear. A ringing silence greeted him. He glanced away from the doorway just long enough to look out the window at the dwindling light beyond.

As he swung back to the doorway, his heart leapt into his throat and pumped Titanic amounts of blood through his veins in terror. Daddy Dearest stood leaned against the doorframe, his thick arms crossed over his chest and an alien, aggressive expression on his face.

"Thinking of running away, boy?" He asked smoothly. Gohan swallowed and winced at the pain that brought before he shook he his head. Goku straightened and furiously stalked toward him.

"You speak when you're asked a question!" He snapped, glaring dangerous holes into Gohan's forehead. The teenager winced and looked away, anywhere but at the foreign look on his father's face. The Saiyajin angrily grabbed Gohan's chin in a painful grip and yanked his head back toward him. With a strange acknowledgement, he realized that Goku was not dressed in his gi, but in regular clothes. He wore pants, boots, a long sleeved shirt, and a jacket that Gohan recognized from before the Cell Games.

"Don't you dare look away!" He snarled. The hair on the back of Gohan's neck stood on end. "Get up!" The teenager scrambled to get off the bed, but it was not fast enough. His father's evil twin grabbed his arm and wrenched him from the bed with such a look of fury on the man's face that Gohan trembled.

"Please," the teenager whispered. "Please, don't hurt me." A light filled the man's eyes and spoke volumes of what was about to happen. He yanked him out of the room and down the hall without another word. Terror gripped Gohan and in a moment of sheer panic, he surged away from his pretend father and lunged for the front door of the Capsule house, desperate to at least try and escape. But he was too slow. Evil Goku appeared before him with a menacing glare.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked. For the remainder of Gohan's life, he did not think he would ever forget the deadly threat that colored the man's words. The teenager skidded to a stop and hooked a turn to run back to his room, but instead dashed into a wall-like chest and fell on his rear. Dazed, he looked up at Goku fearfully.

"You will learn quickly to regret that," his father's voice threatened. Gohan's breath hitched in his chest and a terrified shivered went down his spine as the Saiyajin warrior unbuckled the belt around his waist. The moment felt surreal to the teenager and in an instant of heady fright, he had the demonic urge to laugh insanely. Instead, he choked on his own fear as the man reached down for him. Goku jerked him to his feet and threw him against the wall; as his head slammed against the wall, he realized that it held firm and did not cave beneath his weight. He had no time to consider it any farther as the Goku look-a-like yanked him to his feet again and shoved him into the table. The legs scraped mournfully against the floor and the edge bit into Gohan's abdomen in retaliation.

The teenager sank to the floor and quickly scampered beneath it to the other side, trying to flee the coming destruction. Goku hopped over the table as if it were nothing and landed on the floor directly in front of the teenager again, murder on his face.

_Oh, Kami_, Gohan thought to himself. Nightmare Goku's vice-like grip attached to his wrist and squeezed until Gohan cried out before he yanked him to his feet and shoved him into the table again. This time, he was not able to move fast enough before the belt found purchase on his back. He sucked in a surprised breath over paper dry lips as lash after lash fell against his back. Bone-chilling terror filled him and although his body jerked and reacted to every strike, he remained silent. His eyes were large, and his breathing shallow as shock settled in; he quickly lost count of the strikes.

A moment of stillness brought Gohan back to the moment, but before he could wonder what Nightmare Goku was doing, his gut clenched as cold steel pressed against his spine. His heart stopped but quickly sputtered back to life as the blade lifted, slicing through the back of his gi, revealing his bare back. Surprised, the teenager kicked backwards and connected with his father's knee. Goku cursed and a large, heavy hand clenched the back of Gohan's neck, grinding his face against the table top.

"Please…stop," he whimpered. He heard an eerie chuckle from above him before Nightmare Goku leaned fully over him, suppressing his body with his own until he could whisper into his ear.

"Not until you _scream_."

_Oh Kami! Oh Kami! Oh Kami!_ Gohan mentally screamed. The floor creaked as Goku stood and the only sound Gohan heard was a sharp _swish_ before the belt connected again with his bare back. Gohan clenched his teeth and stared at the long grain of the table top, determined to remain silent.

To Be Continued..

_I just wanted to drop in with a note and let you guys know that I have not, in fact, lost my mind. Hang on for the ride and don't panic yet! ^_^_


	2. Chapter 2

_So I am not dead. I promise! I have been struggling with this little brat child of mine and have finally convinced it that I would really like to finish this SOON. There's my summer goal. *sigh* I have so much in store for you my fellow readers and I just want you guys to know that I really do still love this little buggar and appreciate all of your reviews and comments and threatening thoughts and...you get the idea. _

_Thank you guys so much! It is a nifty little thing whenever my email pops up with another message or review! I have discovered I am just __**slightly**__ addicted to reviews and messages so go on…feed the addiction and maybe I can get this baby finished before next year!_

_On with the show:_

Chapter Two

"Circling Your, Circling Your, Circling Your Head"

"Headstrong"- Trapt

_Warning: Violence and language to come!_

The next time Gohan tried to open his eyes, he had to scrub at them to get them to work. He felt as if some nasty rat had walked over him and was kind enough to leave some left over in his eyes. As with every other time he had awoken, his mouth was bone dry and his lips were swollen and cracked, and on top of that, his stomach ached and complained with hunger.

His first thought after consciousness returned was how thankful he was that at least he had a break from Nightmare Goku.

That was before he could get his eyes to open fully.

Dread filled his belly and fear edged into his joints, making his body begin to tremble as he cracked his eyes open gently and recognized the floor of the kitchen where his pretend father had whipped him until sores had appeared on his back and a highly sought after scream had erupted from deep within his chest. Gohan had felt himself allowed to slump to the floor and as consciousness had deserted him, he had looked up at the monster that looked like his father. The face was so much like Goku's, but this time—and Gohan wondered if he had imagined this—there were jagged scars crisscrossing his face.

He had no more time to consider this as the door opened. The monster had returned.

"So, little boy, do we need to go over the lesson you learned last time?" He asked. Gohan shoved himself up off the floor, blinking away the rest of the stickiness out of his eyes as he turned to face his enemy. He swallowed as he felt the tight pull of the skin on his back; he knew that most likely, the skin would tear open again soon.

"What do you want from me?" Gohan asked, proud that his voice did not waver. He lifted his chin in defiance. Nightmare Goku's expression was one of extreme glee, but in a flash so fast that Gohan wondered if his exhausted brain had conjured the expression, it was gone and replaced by a look of vindictive pleasure.

"Who said I wanted anything? Isn't it normal for a father to want to spend time with his son?" He took two full steps into the kitchen and placed his hands on his hips. Grimly, Gohan noticed the belt was back around his waist.

"You're not my father," Gohan spat angrily. Goku raised an eyebrow.

"You seem so sure of yourself," he mocked, his dark eyes narrowed. His lips were twisted into a smirk as he drew closer to the teenager. "What makes you think I'm not your father? I believe I recently had to make it _very_ clear that I am your father." Gohan's eyes widened and his pulse sped up a little but he pushed these things to the side and concentrated on the Saiyajin warrior before him.

"You're a monster," the teenager whispered. Goku's smirk widened into a full blown smile as he stopped directly in front of Gohan and stared down at the teenager.

"Be careful, child," he said. "You are already in danger; you don't want to push your luck now do you?"

_Alright,_ Gohan thought. _If I'm getting my ass whooped I'm gonna deserve it!_ As fast as he could manage, he drew back and slammed his fist into his father's stomach. Without so much as a word in reply, Goku backhanded him so hard that he flew across the room and crashed into the wall. Gohan strangled a cry in his throat as the abrasions on his back broke open. Fire erupted across his flesh, but the pain was farther back in his mind as he drew himself up off of the floor and glared angry holes at the man pretending to be his father.

"Fuck you, old man!" Goku reached out, quick as a flash, and grabbed the teenager by the shoulders before bending him forward and slamming his stomach into his upraised knee.

"Your language! What would your mother say?" Goku said, his voice mocking and light. He brought Gohan up before slapping him so hard that the teenager saw stars _and_ little birdies dancing about his head. Against his will, his sinuses began to burn as hurt, frustrated tears filled his eyes. He slumped to his knees, his chest heaving as a strangled sob worked its way up. Instead, he swallowed and nearly choked on it.

"Bastard!" Gohan screamed, his face turned bright red as he jumped to his feet and began to pummel his father. Tears made twin angry lines down his cheeks, but the teenager hardly noticed as he struck out at the man before him with murder in his heart. But Nightmare Goku merely batted his efforts away with a chuckle before he swiped the teenager's feet out from beneath him. Gohan landed flat on his back, screaming in agony as the cuts were ground into the dirty floor.

"You haven't seen a bastard yet," Nightmare Goku warned.

DBZ

The days began to bleed into one another and Gohan lost track of where he was until he woke up. He slept most of the time whenever he found himself with his family in the sane version of his father's world, but mostly, he woke up in hell. The monster with his father's face tormented his waking hours and haunted his sleeping hours, but the most desperate part was the way food turned to nothing, water quenched nothing, and his stomach cramped and complained, slowly eating him from the inside out. His lips cracked and bled most days and with raising alarm, he acknowledged that he was weakening dangerously.

On top of whatever atrocities Nightmare Goku wanted to visit on him.

He landed flat on his chest from where the monster had thrown him, his already broken ribs grated painfully against one another. He coughed weakly and the new, barely healed lash marks on his back and hips split open again, and the sting of fresh blood seeped out.

_What is wrong with me_? He thought weakly. _ Why won't I heal right_?

He pushed away from the floor gently, his elbows creaking with the effort, but before he could rise up all of the way, his father's monster grabbed him by his right arm and jerked him up. The teenager cried out and whimpered as he was thrown into the wall again. Struggling to keep his strength about him, Gohan looked up at the man who looked too much like his father and felt terror edge across him. Goku was pulling off his belt again.

Raw horror was bleeding into Gohan's heart and leaking from his eyes through tears and great, choking sobs. He brought his hands up in front of him and begged with his father's ghost.

"_Please_!" He begged, his voice breaking as the man drew near enough to lift him from the floor. The table had been broken into shards long ago—in fact, Nightmare Goku had been so pleased by it that he had proceeded to pluck a thick wooden leg out of the wreckage and beat the living daylights out of Gohan with it. Instead, Goku tossed the teenager face down on the bare floor—his gi just barely covering his decency—and raised the belt above his head, bringing it down so forcefully that he grunted from the effort. Gohan had learned quickly that it didn't matter if he screamed or not—the monster would beat him until he begged and bled and usually passed out.

The darkness was quick to take him this time, but something was different. A furious roar echoed within his head, making him feel as if his brain was rattling from one ear to the other, until he whimpered with pain. He felt as if he were at the state just before or just after you sleep, where you can hear things around you, but only sort of.

"GET OUT!" Someone roared.

Vaguely, he heard a gruff voice whisper his name. Someone touched his face.

"Come on, Kid, wake up."

"Damn it, Fya!"

Gohan heard loud grunting and rage filled curses before silence prevailed again. Hands all over his body left him breathless, and a nameless amount of time crossed over his consciousness.

"Gohan, come on, Kid," the gruff voice said again. Gohan felt warm fingers brush against his cheek and with a start, he realized that he was waking up. He weakly felt his eyelids flutter, but he could make out nothing but blurred shapes before his eyes rolled back up into his head again.

"Damn it! Fya! I'm _killing_ you! Come on, Kid." The fingers were back, but this time they were moist with cool water and brushed across his lips. Gohan's body reacted to the water, lurching up to follow the droplets as if they were ambrosia.

"There ya go, Kid, easy does it," the voice ordered as a cup was pressed to Gohan's lips. The fresh, cool water slipped past his swollen, cracked lips and over his tongue, soothing his aching, sand castle mouth. He had two full mouthfuls of the refreshing liquid before the cup was removed. Frustrated, Gohan jerked his arms up in a half jerk kind of way, trying to capture the disappearing cup.

"No, no more, boy, or you'll be sick," the voice said. "Sheesh, I am going to beat the living crap out of that little pissant!"

With a lot of willpower, Gohan finally managed to wrench his eyes open enough to glare angrily at the colorful blob that existed before him.

"More," he rasped, weakly he brought his arms up to smack limply at the colorful blob. Hands plucks his weak arms out of the air and pressed them back down beside him.

"No," the gruff voice answered firmly. Gohan tossed his head to the side, feeling every bump and bruise; every cut and lash mark stretched across his back and he groaned.

"You're a tough one, Kid, I'll give you that." A sigh and the blob began to sharpen into a form. A human form. A man's form with broad shoulders. And black hair. "You have really got to tell me where the hell the Stone is, Kid."

"Stone?" Gohan asked weakly, shocked by the gravelly sound of his own voice. As if he had been screaming for days. The fingers touched his face again.

"Yeah, Kid, the Stone." Another sigh. "But you don't know where it is; I've already looked."

His vision cleared more, and above him, Gohan realized, was a dark metal ceiling. He lay flat on his back, which in his opinion was not the most prime example of medical protocol considering the throbbing that came from his back and hips. Not to mention his chest. And his hands, too. And his legs hurt some…throbbing headache…Oh crap, everything hurt!

Suddenly, everything hurt worse as the surface he had been laying on tilted nearly vertical, throwing him unceremoniously across the floor. His caretaker cursed.

"Damnit! I warned her he would come!" Gohan felt fingers around his torso pick him up like a baby and sit him on a cot. Blearily, he focused in on the person in front of him and gave a startled cry. The man before him looked exactly like his father but for the scars criss-crossing his face.

"Well, crap, Kid, I've heard my face could scare children, but you're a bit old!" Gohan moaned low in the back of his throat and pushed away, bringing his ki up and sending it toward the man before him. A blast rocked the room, but it had nothing to do with Gohan's poor excuse for a ki ball.

"Get away!" The teenager cried. Hands closed over his wrists and forced the ki back, battering it back until Gohan collapsed from the strain, his body going limp and dropping over onto his side. His ears rang from the stress of it and he could have sworn every single owie he had was torn wide open and leaking blood all over his—well, he did not really have any clothes anymore, right? Another loud explosion made the room tremble and shake precariously.

"You have clothes, child," the voice answered his unspoken question. Hands touched his cheeks. "Listen to me, Gohan!" The man's voice was so strong and threatening that the teenager dared not ignore it. "You will never forgive me for this, and I have no time to explain, but your father is coming."

Gohan's vision was mostly clear but for the tips and edges that seemed to blur together, and the sight of the scarred man before him terrified the teenager to the point of heart failure. His body shook and quaked. The man appeared angered by this and turned away for a moment.

"I'm going to _skin him first!_ And _then_ I'll kill him! Sorry, pathetic, little—" Whatever he had been about to curse was drowned out by a great upheaval around them and the scream of twisted metal. Gohan was thrown to the floor as the walls tore apart, but before he could register what was happening, the man covered him with his own body, his weight pressing into the teenager's back in such a way to send chills racing up and down his spine: it was too much like the first time he had whipped him.

_Oh Kami, I've finally gone bonkers!_ He thought to himself. _This man who used to abuse me is now saving me! Haha, I'm dead…_ A growl in his ear made him flinch.

"I'm fucking going to murder that little bastard! Boy, stop thinking you're crazy and start listening before your father gets in here with His Majesty and the green bean and any other of his little warrior friends and kicks my ass. I have to leave, but before I do I want to give you a few warnings."

Above them, Gohan could hear the wind whistling through the torn apart metal. The wind whipped about them chaotically as long, snake-like electrical wires jerked and bounced about. Still, the not-so-stranger with the scars protected Gohan's battered body with his own.

"First off, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger! Secondly, I'll be back and when I come back, you had better be ready because I won't be coming back with friendlies. Third, you find out everything you can about the Blaque Stone. This is important, Gohan, did you hear me?" Weakly, Gohan nodded his head.

"No, I want you to repeat it back to me!" Gohan's mind raced as he forced his abused vocal cords to work for all of two seconds. Frustrated, he was going to shove the guy off so that he could inhale a decent breath when the man touched his cheek again.

_**Think it, Kid!**_

_**Oh Kami, you're a telepath!**_

_**What did I tell you, KID?**_ Through the fog in the teenager's brain, he managed to repeat back everything that the man had told him before a scream rent apart the remainder of the wall and gravity grabbed them. Strong arms encased him as they shot away from the wreckage. The farther they got, Gohan realized with a jolt that he had been in a room on the strange ship he had seen.

"No kiddin'? Really? You're a smart one, aren't ya?"

"Bite me," Gohan smarted back weakly. One of the arms around him let go long enough to smack the back of his head sharply.

"Respect your elders, _Ngijosah_," he snapped. "And remember what I told you; I'll see you soon, Kid. You did good." He was surprised by the note of pride in the voice before the strong arms around him unfolded and Gohan felt himself falling away.

_Thank you guys so much AGAIN for all of the awesome reviews! I am not that great at responding to each and every one, but I greatly love each and every one of them! _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Stained Glass Masquerade"

-Casting Crowns

_I am WORKING ON IT! I am truly struggling to get this thing finished! I love it to pieces…maybe a few too many pieces… Thank you so much for the wonderful comments and reviews guys, I really do love them! _

_This one is dedicated to everyone who reviewed. Thank you for taking the time to drop me a note!_

The next time that Gohan opened his eyes, he felt such a deluge of fear and déjà vu that he whimpered and hunched his shoulders slightly. He was tucked into his own bed again. The sunlight danced on the floor of his room and the soft comforter was tugged up to his arm pits.

_I am in hell,_ he thought to himself. _Will this crap ever end?_

"Go'an?" The teenager flinched and turned in the bed, raising up faster than he realized he should have as fire hot pain burst from his back, sides, and hips. Unable to stop it, he screamed, the pain creating an ocean within his ears and a solar system behind his eyes. Voices grew louder as he sagged wearily back against the bed, his breath gasping and desperate. He heard footsteps and couldn't seem to help the panicked feeling edging into his very being.

"Gohan," someone said. A large hand was placed on his shoulder and with a cry of confused fear—his eyesight barely returning from the golden edged web of pain—he shot off the bed and scrambled toward the door. Someone shouted his name right before he smacked face-first into a body. He would have landed weakly on his butt if the person he had ran into had not grabbed him by the upper arms unknowingly aggravating the injuries there.

"Gohan." The teenager started and looked up. And up. Piccolo's expression was concerned as he held Gohan up by his arms. "Hey, Kid."

"Son? Gohan?" Behind him, Gohan heard the voice that had terrorized his waking nightmares for the past—however many days he had been in hell. His father.

_No, not your father, Gohan._ He told himself. _ That monster was not your father!_ He knew that something had happened, and if he gave Piccolo and his father the chance, he knew he would find out what that was. Still, the thought of turning and seeing his father's face again sent chills down his spine, no matter whether what happened was real or not.

Piccolo released him, but his father gently took his place, pulling him back to the bed before he pushed him onto it. Desperately confused, Gohan allowed him to guide his movements, biting back the scream as he landed on the bed.

He rested back and relaxed, breathing deeply, trying to control his panic as he looked up into his father's caring black eyes. _No, that was not my father._

"What happened," he asked, his voice still rough. Piccolo moved fully into the room and within seconds of waking, his mother bustled into the room, her expression narrowed and pinched.

"You were kidnapped," she said quietly. Gohan blinked at her in surprised confusion. Goku joined Chichi as she sat on the edge of Gohan's bed; Goten, feeling the serious mood in the room, had quietly scurried onto the bed with his brother, his expression one of a timid mouse that hopes the fox doesn't see it. Bird hovered silently in the doorway, her expression drawn and tired. Her blond hair seemed to drag the floor while her large blue eyes were dulled and the skin below a bruised color.

"Kidnapped," Gohan repeated. Memories of what had happened swam into his thoughts, drowning him. Piccolo had leaned against Gohan's school desk and for some reason, seeing his teacher there with his school books nearby hit something funny. He smiled, closed his eyes, and groaned as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "Only me."

"Gohan," Goku said, his voice pensive. Gohan opened his eyes and looked at his father in exhaustion. "What happened while you were on that ship; you're pretty banged up."

"How did you find me?" The teenager dodged. Goku's expression was unreadable, but before he answered, Krillin did from the door-way.

"My daughter knew where you were." Gohan rolled his head toward the monk. Krillin's expression was tired and just as tense as Gohan felt. Bird shifted forward into the room as the short monk moved into the doorway. "Apparently she has visions; most of them about you for some reason." Gohan flinched at the accusation there.

"How long was I gone?"

"A week," Chichi replied. Gohan jolted upright in surprise.

"Shit!" The wounds on his back and middle seemed to burst with fire, the pain was so acute.

"Gohan!" His mother rebuked mildly. Gohan stilled, his face going milky white as he shot her an annoyed glare.

"I mean, shucks," he amended. Goku watched him, his expression curiously guarded. For an instant, Gohan felt a thrill of fear at his father's look, but he quickly stamped it out. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed evenly through the pain. "You're saying I've been gone for a week?" Goku shifted uncomfortably.

"Actually," Piccolo added from the other side of the room. "You were gone for a week and out for two days after we got you back." Gohan swallowed heavily. Chichi touched his forehead.

"Lay back down, Sweetheart," she murmured. "Lay on your side and it will help."

"Nah, it'll hurt no matter which way I go," he muttered. But his arms were trembling with the stress of holding himself up. _Geez, I'm so weak!_

"Lean on me, son," Goku offered, scooting a chair until he was directly in front of Gohan. The teenager bit his lip as he tried to move closer, unsettling the very quiet Goten. Goku quickly reached for Gohan, moving his hands faster than Gohan expected. The teenager flinched back reflexively before he could catch himself. His father's hand stopped in mid air, his face a frozen statue of hurt confusion. The teenager sighed and went limp, allowing his father to pull him forward. He still felt every sharp ache in his body from every cut and bruise and broken bone, but he was so tired he couldn't seem to make himself care much.

There was a pregnant silence in his bedroom and as Gohan relaxed into his father's arms and rested his forehead on his father's shoulder; he had the feeling that he really didn't care to open his eyes and have to answer any of the questions that were most likely parading across every single face in the room. He sighed deeply.

"Gohan, Sweetheart," his mother said from beside him. He felt the bed dip under her weight as she sat down. "Do you want to go back sleep? I have some pain medicine that Bulma dropped off if you need more rest."

"That sounds like a good idea, son," Goku whispered from above him. Surprised, Gohan frowned and sighed again, trying to ignore the various hurts from all over his body.

"Yeah. Sounds great." Goku eased him up enough to see that Piccolo and Krillin had both left and his mother was exiting his room. He was left by himself with only his father and little brother. "How bad has it been?"

Goku frowned and eased him back down on the bed. On his side. "You slept like a rock most of the time, although your mother could get you to eat some. You woke up only enough to go to the bathroom." Goku's expression was uncomfortable and guarded.

"I bathed you once." Gohan remained quiet.

"Gohan I saw all of the marks and bruises. Dende healed them as much as he could before your mother saw them. He said you would be fine once you rested, but…"

"Here you are, baby," Chichi said as she bustled back into the room. She handed Gohan a bright orange capsule and a glass of water. Gohan's mouth watered as she handed him the tall, chilled glass of water. Something twisted roughly within his stomach as he gazed at the damn liquid in the glass. He felt a lump enter his throat and tears burn behind his eyes, as he took a deep drink of the blissful, heavenly water.

He popped the pill, not caring for the rattled, unsettled way his heart was pounding and the hand that held the glass trembled, his fingers tightening reflexively around the glass. He drained the remaining water and shoved it at his mother before he gently curled into a ball and closed his eyes. His father brushed his hair back as his mother coaxed the solemn, quiet boy off of the foot of his bed and urged him from the room.

In truth, the teenager wanted to go back to sleep and wake up nine days ago—when his life was complicated in a normal way. And one he could understand.

DBZ

When next the teenager opened his eyes, he nearly screamed at the luminous blue eyes an inch from his own. He roughly slammed both hands over his mouth and breathed slowly through his nose, trying to cease the rough pounding of his battered heart.

"I'm sorry," Bird whispered. She shifted, scooting down until they were more level. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Gohan sighed and dropped his hands.

"It's okay; I just didn't expect you there," he whispered back. Bird reached up and gently touched his right ear—the one not pressed into the pillow—or at least the course black hair directly above it. Her blue eyes reflected the star light that filtered into the room and gave her an otherworldly appearance, while her pristine pale skin merely added to the illusion of a ghost.

"You were dreaming," the girl whispered again. Gohan frowned.

"Yes." Bird frowned as she fingered the tender skin above Gohan's ear, making him shiver involuntarily.

"You were horribly beaten when they brought you home. You would not wake up, but I could sense that you were still there." Unbelievably large tear drops appeared in the girl's eyes, welling up like small waves in the blueness of her eyes. "But I could sense your fear; I knew that you were still hurting."

Bird paused to sniff and swallow heavily before she continued, her fingers moving to the nape of Gohan's neck.

"But _there was nothing I could do_!" She said harshly. The waves in her eyes overflowed and dripped sideways across her nose and onto the pillow beneath her head. "You are my first friend, Son Gohan, but I could not help you fight through your fear!" A hollow sob wracked the thin shoulders and the demi Saiyajin could stand it no longer. He brought his free arm up and draped it over the blond girl, brushing her long hair back before he rested his hand on her back between her shoulder blades.

"It's okay now, Bird, I'm here and I'm fine," he soothed quietly. The sobs became silent sniffles. Not knowing what else to do, Gohan stroked his friend's back until she opened her eyes with a shudder and looked at him. She took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his; her fingers still caressed the skin at the nape of his neck, drawing the tension out of the muscles there.

Eye to eye as they were, Gohan knew that the blond android-girl would be his friend and confidante for the rest of his life. His heart swelled with affection and protectiveness.

"I knew that you were hurting," Bird admitted. "I knew all that time, but there was nothing I could do. You had to come to it on your own."

"Hey, you're not talking slowly anymore," he said, somewhat surprised by her more relaxed way of speaking. Bird smiled, a truly startling contrast to the moisture at her eyes.

"Goten has been helping me learn to talk; Trunks, too," she admitted shyly. Gohan smiled slowly and shifted his position, wincing as his back pulled uncomfortably.

"I'm happy you're here, Bird," the teenager said softly, his eyes starting to drift shut into sleepiness. "We'll figure out who that guy is eventually. I promise."

Bird smiled and brushed her fingers against Gohan's cheek as the boy's eyes fought sleep.

"Thank you, Gohan," she whispered, her voice easing the demi-Saiyajin into a world of simple, soothing dreams.

DBZ

For the next two days, Gohan slept and rested. He did not see Krillin again during his waking moments, nor did Bird visit his sleeping moments again, but Piccolo's ki never drifted far. Goku had kept an odd sort of vigil over him, and every other time that he had opened his eyes, his father was there.

On the third day, when Gohan opened his eyes, his father stood next to the open window, his arms crossed and his expression pensive. Gohan watched him, extremely pleased that his father was still there. It had taken practice, but the first sight of his father upon waking did not cause him to cringe in absolute terror anymore.

Goku turned and spied his open eyes. His face smoothed into a gentle smile as he turned and approached the bed.

"Hey there," he said. Gohan pushed himself up in his bed and stretched, thrilled when there were no sudden jolts of pain that rattled through him. He took a deep breath and smiled back at his dad, feeling refreshed and totally new.

"How do you feel, Kiddo?" Goku sat on the edge of Gohan's bed and watched him closely, his black eyes warm and not at all like those of his evil twin.

"Great!" Goku grinned.

"Well finally! I was wondering if maybe you were just going to sleep the rest of your life away! Are you hungry?" Gohan nodded and scrapped a hand over his face with both hands.

"Yeah."

"Well, let me go ask your mom if you can get up and eat a late lunch," he offered, rising and turning for the door. He stuck his head out of Gohan's room and called loudly to Chichi. Gohan cringed, dreading his mother's reply—she hated it when his father yelled in the house. But his mother's voice was a mere murmur to Gohan's ears.

Goku returned to the bed and planted himself in the chair that still sat by the bed. Gohan felt a smidge of discomfort grumble through his chest at his father's expression.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Gohan, I've been worried about you." Goku leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Above them, Gohan could feel Piccolo's pulsating ki. "When you feel up to it, I was hoping we could go fishing."

"That sounds like fun,' Chichi said from the doorway, walking in with a tray with a big bowl perched in the center of it. "But I'm sure you will have plenty to do once you are well enough to visit Capsule Corp and Bulma." Gohan blanched.

"Am I being punished again?" He asked, incredulous. Chichi laughed gently and set the tray on his lap.

"No, Sweetheart, you just have to go back over there and build Bulma's computer, remember? She mentioned that all of the parts are in and your friend is waiting for you to finish it. Bird and I made this, by the way."

Gohan smiled, relieved, and settled the tray on his lap before he lifted the lid on the bowl. Warm, mouthwatering beef stew drifted up to entice him. His stomach clenched and growled as if it had not been fed in months and his mouth watered. The blasted lump appeared in his throat again and added a nice, if not bittersweet flavor to the beef stew. His mother sat on the edge of the bed and silently pulled Gohan's head toward her chest, her eyes filling with tears.

The moment did not last—five or six minutes—and when it was over, Gohan's chest felt more normal, less strained. Chichi pressed a firm kiss to the top of Gohan's head and left him alone with his father and his heaping bowl of stew. He finished the whole thing in a nano second and nearly licked it clean.

"You can have more, you know," his father said, a smile on his face. "You're acting like me."

"No, that's okay, I'm full it was just…really good," Gohan said, cracking a smile. Goku chuckled and looked down at the comforter. Suddenly uncomfortable, Gohan joined him in the act and bit his lip. "Sorry," he whispered. Goku looked up at him and frowned, his eyes darker than normal.

"Don't apologize, Gohan," he whispered. His expression was tense as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Gohan felt a flicker of trepidation. "I'm just sorry it took us so long to find you. I'm sorry they hurt you…"

Gohan ducked his head, not caring for the direction of the conversation.

"Gohan," Goku started. "I haven't asked—mostly because I don't think I really wanted to know the answer—but, what happened on that ship? Who hurt you?" Gohan fell back onto his pillow, blowing out a breath as he went. He was silent for a few minutes, trying to think of the right thing to say.

_**Piccolo?**_ He called mentally. His teacher's presence was there before he could blink.

_**What?**_

_**What do I say?**_

_**The truth?**_

_**I don't want to tell the truth.**_ Gohan swallowed hard. _**It's too hard.**_

_**The right thing isn't always easy, Gohan, you should know that by now.**_ Piccolo's presence pressed against him in rebuke.

"Gohan?" The teenager glanced at his father's tense expression and closed his eyes. He hated his life sometimes.

"You did," he whispered. Goku looked confused for a minute before the truth dawned on him. His eye widened and his mouth popped open.

"I did this?" He whispered. "But I was looking for you, Gohan! I did not hurt you!" Gohan shook his head and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

"It wasn't _you_, Dad, he just…looked like you," he finished lamely and shifted his position until he was lying on his side. Some unnamed emotion pushed up against his chest at his father's crestfallen expression. Gohan growled in frustration.

"I can't do this." He whispered. He sat up and reached for his father's hand, determination burning behind his dark eyes. Surprised, Goku held his hand in confusion until Gohan swallowed, took another deep breath, and poured his memories of his time in Dream Land into the contact. With his eyes squeezed tight, he failed to see the expression of naked horror cover his father's usually joyful countenance. But the ragged intake of breath the teenager caught was enough. His father's grip tightened around Gohan's fingers until his skin turned purple from the pressure, but the pain kept him grounded, kept him attached to his father.

Gohan ran through every moment he could remember, passing over the devastation briefly and sending it directly into the link with his father. Every strike, every hit, every blistering instance of pain and the gut wrenching _nothingness_ that Nightmare Goku had visited on Gohan, he sent to his father, blindly hoping his father would get his fill of understanding and not need to speak of the things that had happened ever again. Along with those he sent the strange awakening in the ship. As Gohan's memories ran dry, the teenager found he was pulled into his father's embrace. Goku's frame trembled as he crushed his child tightly in his arms.

They sat like that for a long time, and eventually Goku's shudders disappeared while his grip remained constant and comforting. Gohan was quiet, simply listening to his father's heartbeat and thinking back on how far they had come. Mere weeks before—and for years before that—Gohan had been stilted and living only a half life that revolved around his deep hatred for his father. But he had been so very happy to wake up where he was safe and loved. It had been a long, hard road, but Gohan felt as if he were finally coming out of the darkness; even if a dangerous alien or two was after him. Speaking of which…

"Dad," Gohan whispered.

"Mm?" Gohan pushed away and was released immediately. Goku watched him curiously as the teenager swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked at him. Gohan frowned, slightly irritated that he had not been more concerned with telling his father and all of the other warriors about the impending threat that Scar-Face had left him. He _had_ been trying to recover, but still, there was just no excuse.

"Dad," he repeated, wetting his lips. "Those guys that took me—they're coming back." Goku straightened, an odd, burning fire igniting beyond his eyes.

"What?" His father searched his face and the teenager felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees. Curiously, Gohan felt a thin tendril of fear slither down his belly.

Piccolo's presence bloomed stronger as the tall green man appeared through Gohan's bedroom window. He glanced once at Goku's tempestuous expression before locking his firm, hostile gaze on Gohan.

"What did you say?" He demanded. The teenager opened his mouth and closed it again, taken aback by his father's and best friend's sudden changes in demeanor. He licked his lips again.

"They're going to come back."

"When?" Goku and Piccolo demanded in sync. They traded a glare before turning back to Gohan. Goku spoke next.

"Gohan, how do you know they're coming back?"

"He told me," the teenager whispered. Goku leaned forward closer to him.

"Who told you?"

"I don't know his name," the teenager whispered. He frowned in confusion. "He…helped me." _He also hurt me_, his subconscious whispered in the back of his mind. He pushed those thoughts away and focused on his father's expression.

"Did he say why?" Piccolo asked.

"He said I needed to find out everything I could about the Blaque Stone." Gohan sighed and fiddled with his fingers.

"When?" Goku asked quietly. Gohan shook his head.

"I don't know; all I know is that he said he'd be back with others who would not be friendly." Gohan licked his lips. "Dad, they're after _me._ This stone that they want they are _sure_ I have, but I don't! He even said I didn't have it."

"How did he know that?" Gohan shook his head again and hesitated.

"He was telepathic," Gohan said. Piccolo shifted.

"Gohan," Chichi said as she came into the room, interrupting them. "Bulma just called and wanted to know if you would be willing to come to work tomorrow and finish building the computer." Chichi's expression was irritated. Piccolo and Goku were silent, but Gohan gave his mother a huge smile.

"That sounds great," he said. "I'm ready to get out." Chichi's expression was furious.

"Gohan, do you really think you should be running about the country at this moment?"

"But, Mom," Gohan said, his voice low and pleading. "I could really use a break from the house."

"I don't think so, young man," she nearly snarled. She turned on her heels and stomped from the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Gohan sat square in his bed with his bed sheets crumpled in his hands, staring at the door as if a terrifying clown had just burst through it.

"Dad," Gohan said, turning his attention to his father. The two warriors still stood close to the window with closed expressions. "Please?"

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: just a couple of things. First, let me just right this minute acknowledge and thank each and every one of you who has responded to this story! I read and greatly appreciate every little bit of feed back I get (it pains me to admit that I am horrible at responding :-/ )._

_Secondly, flyzza left a review asking about Gohan's appearance, and I am appalled that I let this go without making it clear in the story! Gohan has the shorter hair of the high school kid we met right before Buu, just keep in mind his age, so he is still not quite as filled out or tall. Forgive me! haha_

_Next also comes from flyzza, who mentioned Vegeta and Goku's character's not being very canon…which is true to some extent. I find it difficult to write a 'canon' Goku because he is SERIOUSLY flakey sometimes. In my mind, thus why he left Gohan and in essence gave me the tidbits to write this! Don't misunderstand me, I LOVE Goku, but I wanted him to be a little more real this go round. He is still carefree, but he is trying not to screw up something he screw up in the first place…kind of hard for a guy who originally thought marriage was a food. But the point is, he is trying. _

_Vegeta is a fun, fun guy to write about because he presents a bit of a challenge. He didn't leave. He stayed after Goku died. Why? Who cares if he had a kid with Bulma? Why stay? I like to explore why, and while he has his moments of being nice, I still want him to be rough and tough because he is. So I will try to keep that little bit in check, but I do so like to make him human._

_Lastly, and certainly not least: I must seriously apologize (again) for my delay. I have no excuse, friends, other than a moment of insecurity. _

_Please enjoy and let me know what you think!_

Chapter Four

"In This World There's Real and Make Believe"

-"Let Me Go" 3 Doors Down

The next morning, Gohan took a full, deep breath of the chilled, mountain air, thankful that he was out of the house and on his way to Capsule Corp. The air was crisp and bright blue with only a few clouds that skittered quickly across the sky. He flew slowly, thinking, as the terrain below him gradually changed from forest to farms to city life.

From the aggravating argument that morning, Gohan had deduced that his mother not only did not want him to go to Capsule Corp., she did not want him to leave the _house_. Goku spoke in low tones compared to her screaming, and therefore was inaudible to Gohan's sensitive hearing. Gohan, Bird, and Goten had been tossed out into the yard whilst the parentals argued. After a few minutes, Goku walked out of the house with his arm draped casually about his mother's shoulders. Goku's expression was calm and sedate, but Gohan knew that his father had gotten his way, although his heart wrenched when he saw his mother's tear streaked face.

In short, Gohan was allowed to go to Capsule Corp., although the teenager knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his father, Piccolo, or both were trailing him at that very moment.

Gohan rolled his eyes, childishly ruffled by his babysitters—still. He sighed and allowed his thoughts to wonder to something new.

Bird.

It had been weeks, and Gohan had discovered nothing! With a capital N. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Annoyance flooded his veins and with a dull thrum in his bloodstream, he quickened his pace to Capsule Corp. Perhaps Bulma had some new information for him! After all, she had taken blood samples and Gohan was just positive that he already knew the result of those. He just…wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up.

Within a matter of minutes, Gohan touched down in front of Capsule Corp. His heart was happily pumping jugs of blood through his body. He ran, speeding quickly past the receptionist's desk until he barreled into Bulma's office. The sight that met his eyes was nearly enough to make his grandchildren gag.

Vegeta had Bulma pushed up against the wall, her feet off the floor and wrapped from hip to toe around the Saiyajin prince. Gohan thanked every deity he had ever heard of that he had not interrupted them with their clothes off. He didn't think his already struggling mind could handle that.

He quickly slammed the door and stuffed both fists into his eyes. From behind the now closed door, he heard Bulma's voice.

"Damn it, Vegeta! You didn't have the decency to lock the damn door before you came in here and accosted me?" She demanded. Gohan thought he heard the Saiyajin prince moan, but before he could rip his ears off, Bulma had wrenched the door open and shoved Vegeta out on his rear. She stood over him, her face bright red with embarrassment. Vegeta came slowly to his feet, his attention—thankfully—riveted on the blue haired woman.

"Gohan, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you just yet," she said, offering the teenager an apologetic smile. She shot Vegeta a dangerous glare. "He's done here, anyways."

"Not yet," the older Saiyajin replied, his black eyes larger and glittering—something Gohan had never seen before in the killer's eyes. Gohan gulped and tried to cover his entire head. Bulma snorted.

"I have an opening this afternoon at three thirty, Vegeta," she announced, her expression taking on a sly, Cheshire Cat kind of look. "Go to the Gravity Room and train for a while; I have a four o'clock."

"Oh Kami," the teenager moaned. "I'm going to vomit." He gulped again, looking green. Vegeta growled low in his throat and yanked Gohan to his feet, nearly jerking his arm out of its socket.

"Thanks for the interruption, brat," he snapped, shoving Gohan into Bulma's office.

"Don't manhandle him, Vegeta," she snapped happily. "Save it for me later."

Gohan groaned and banged his head against Bulma's desk. The nutty scientist closed the door and turned with her hands on her hips and a cute smile on her face. Nearly dreamy, she shook it off and approached the green teenager. One glance at his face and she burst into full on belly laughs.

"What is your problem? Did you think Trunks got here miraculously?"

"Oh that is so gross," the teenager moaned again. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you say that now," she said thoughtfully. She eyed him curiously for a moment, a slow grin spreading from the center and blooming outward. "That's okay, you'll change your mind one day." Gohan's face turned a bright shade of red.

"Anyway," Gohan prompted, valiantly hoping the woman would take the hint.

"Ah yes," Bulma said, shaking her head. "You came here to ask me about Bird's parentage." She flicked a long finger at a thin file on the right side of her desk. Gohan took a deep breath and pulled it toward him before he stood and walked over to the couch, allowing Bulma to sit at her desk. He thumped down on the couch and opened the file, his heart somewhere near his throat.

"Oh geez," he whispered. Bulma smiled and nodded her head.

"You were right, Gohan; see, I told you that you would make an excellent addition to the Capsule Corporation team!" Gohan dropped the file to his lap and stared at the floor.

"What's wrong?" She asked, pulling the teenager out of his thoughts. Gohan swallowed.

"I have to tell them now," he said. Bulma smirked.

"That should be easy, right?" Right then, there was a rapping on Bulma's door. "Come in."

Seftee poked her head into the room.

"I heard you were here, stranger!" She said, greeting Gohan. "Took you long enough to get over that bad flu bug you had; are you ready to get back to building Bulma's computer? All of the parts are in now." Gohan was momentarily stumped, but Bulma recovered for him.

"We have some things to discuss first, but as soon as we're done here I'll send him directly to you, Seftee," she said smoothly. Seftee nodded her head and winked at Gohan.

"Yes, Ma'am!" She replied. Once he and Bulma were alone in her office again, she peered at him silently.

"I promised Bird that I would find the man that she can't quite remember; the one who named her," he said. He bit his lip. "What if it's her father?" Bulma arched her eyebrows.

"I never considered that when I first asked you to run the blood test," he admitted. Bulma shook her head.

"You worry entirely too much for a kid your age, Gohan," she said. "You don't know anything at all right now about whom that person she remembered was or what his position in her life was."

"Either way, Bulma, would you not say anything until I can find something else out about him? Maybe once we rebuild your computer, we could finish trying to unlock Sixteen's records?" Bulma pursed her lips.

"What if you don't find out anything from Sixteen's records, Gohan? What are you going to do then?"

"I'll tell her then. I'll tell them both but I just want the chance to finish with Sixteen first," he replied, a niggling of some other strange emotion pushing into his consciousness. Bulma watched him, considering the youth before she nodded. Gohan felt as if he were being visually fileted, his sudden surge of selfishness on keeping Bird in the dark bubbling up to stew near the surface.

"Okay, Gohan, I won't say anything just yet, but don't take too long, okay?" She clapped her hands together, a gleeful expression on her face. "Now, let's get down to business; I have a very important appointment this afternoon!"

Gohan colored and covered his face with his hands as the blue haired woman cackled.

DBZ

"Okay, Gohan, now all that's left is some programming things—tying up all of the loose ends," Seftee announced. She stood and stretched her arms over her head. Gohan followed her example and stretched his own muscles.

"That wasn't bad at all," he commented. She smiled at him.

"What were you expecting? Days of building and rewiring? It doesn't take that long if you know what you're doing and what you want." Gohan nodded his head as the tall girl checked her watch.

"Okay, I've got to scoot, Gohan, I have class in an hour, but if you come back in tomorrow, we'll finish up the programming bit." She scooped her bag off of the counter beside the door and was gone in an instant. Gohan glanced around the clean room before he too, left the room. Arale was coming down the hallway, a textbook shoved into her nose.

"Reading and walking is dangerous to your health you know," Gohan quipped. Arale lowered her book and grinned.

"Hey, Gohan! How're you feeling?" She stopped, closed the book and clutched it to her chest.

"Good as new!" Gohan said. _Almost as if I were never sick…_

"That's good to hear, we were wondering if you were going to make it back to us; you haven't been in trouble in a while," she teased. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Oh, just wait, I'm sure I'll get myself into trouble again," he replied. "Trouble finds me." Arale shook her head.

"Well, I'm glad you're back and feeling great, do you want to go grab some lunch with me? I know it's after lunch time, but I haven't eaten yet."

"Cafeteria food?" Gohan asked with a grin. Arale snorted and shook her head.

"Uh, no," she answered. "Somewhere else. It's one of my favorite places." Gohan shrugged.

"Okay," he said. Arale continued down the hall, this time with Gohan in step beside her.

Half an hour later, he sat with Arale across from him, dangling her legs off of a short wall surrounding a tiny shop with the most enticing aromas issuing from it. Other young people were milling about, happily calling to each other as they awaited their own food.

Beside them on the wall, they had amassed enough food to feed quite a few starving college students. Mildly embarrassed, Gohan knew that he could eat every morsel and lick his fingers after that. He had asked Arale to order for him, knowing that he would appear stupid if he ordered everything that looked and/or smelled good on the menu. So, his black haired companion had ordered for him and brought back enough to feed an army or one hungry, growing Saiyajin teenager.

"Well," Arale asked through a mouthful of food. Gohan could have laughed, but his own mouth was full. Instead he nodded his head in what he hoped was an affirmation.

The food was an interesting cross between Asian and Western cuisine that gave him the desire to learn how to cook just to cook it. Lo Mein noodles and a barbequed steak that caused a round of salivation. He felt like a cartoon wolf—thin, half starved, and within view of a fresh, still breathing herd of sheep. He hoped he did not look like an idiot.

"So were you really sick?" They were almost done with their meal—apparently Arale's appetite was portly—when she asked that question. Gohan swallowed his mouthful of food.

"Of course I was, why wouldn't I be?" His voice nearly squeaked and it was then that he realized that he had to get out of there and away from the female. She smiled a wide, knowing smile in his direction and he felt his heart drop to his knees.

"I overheard Bulma say something a few days ago about needing to find you. She was on the phone and hadn't been herself the last few days; I thought maybe you had run away," she said, her cheeks blushed pink and shrugged. "I'm just curious." Gohan narrowed his eyes on her, unsure of what, but knowing that she was not telling the entire truth.

"I was sick," he said, his voice firm. Arale seemed to accept his answer and changed the subject to something else, but later, after Gohan returned to Capsule Corp., he wondered what Arale had expected him to say.

DBZ

"Gohan, will you come in here for a minute?" Bulma was in one of the massive computer rooms in Capsule Corp.'s belly, leaning over a computer keyboard. Her face was joyous.

"What's up?" he asked wearily, his mind was still chewing over his lunch with Arale.

"I found something in Sixteen's data storage that was not guarded—or rather, it _was_ guarded but I think when you exploded my computer something slipped and unlocked this information." She sounded jubilant. She jabbed her finger at the screen on the desk as Gohan got closer. "Look!"

"It's a map," the teenager noted. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Yes, genius, you're right but I'm talking about _that_." Gohan leaned closer and finally saw what the scientist had her finger on. It was a site in the middle of nowhere complete with a set of coordinates.

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Bulma," he said.

"Sixteen had these coordinates hidden in his storage, Gohan, all other coordinates pointed to sites that Gero wanted him to note, but the coordinates to his secret lab were hidden alongside this one—look." Bulma drug the map to the right and pointed to another blinking light. "This is the original lab that you guys found."

"Wait, you're saying you found another _lab_?" Gohan asked, his excitement fighting with his dread.

"I don't know it's a lab, I just know that it was protected. Why would it be protected for no reason?" Gohan seemed to absorb that, but before he could comment, another voice joined the conversation.

"There you are," Goku said happily as he walked into the room. "It's almost time to eat supper, Gohan, and I'm sure Mom will be ready for us to come home now."

"Goku, look what I just found!" Bulma said. Without consideration, Gohan slung his arm around his father's shoulders, distracting him.

"I bet Mom's got _loads_ of food ready for us to eat!" He crowed, giving Bulma an evil eye. "Let's go home now, can we, Dad?"

DBZ

Two days later, bright, shimmering sun light bled cheerfulness across the mountain. Mt. Paozu was ablaze with crisp, cool mountain air and the brilliance of fall. Green was melting into yellow, yellow burning first into orange, then red, and finally dying into brown. Bears were preparing for a long, tedious hibernation while birds soared and called across the sky.

"Look it!" Screeched a childish voice. A mini blur tumbled across the blue sky, whooping with laughter. Birds squawked indignantly and flapped away with out a backwards look as the little boy nearly crashed into them.

"Hey, Saru, watch out!" Gohan laughed, his little brother's current position was dangling in the air with his south end going north. The child's arms pinwheeled and flapped as he tried to right himself.

"Help!" Goten said. His big brother was clutching his middle and rolling in mid air. The upside down chibi glared, his lip protruding while his arms tightened over his chest. The effect was instantaneous: Gohan laughed harder.

"Gohan!" Goten insisted, his face turning crimson with the increased gravity.

"Okay, okay," Gohan finally choked out. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and drifted closer. "Sorry, Goten, you just look hilarious."

His little brother gave him a severe look. Upside down.

Gohan snorted and cleared his throat.

"So, standing up in mid air is hard," he said, drifting closer. "Just focus. The same thing that makes you fly is the same thing that keeps you suspended in the air; remember, flying is the simplest form of ki manipulation." Gohan held his hand out, and in his palm, allowed a glowing orb of raw ki to collect.

"Everything around us has ki in various amounts. We fly because we learn to manipulate the ki in the air, so, if your feet are up, you need to focus less energy at your feet and more closer to your chest. Remember that you're not exactly pushing your feet from the ground."

Goten frowned, captured his tongue between his lips, and closed his hands into fists. And then he plummeted bottom first toward the ground. Gohan dropped quickly, keeping up with the child but still upright. With a half wild shriek, the three year old stopped in midair, his eyes and fists shut tightly. He floated upright, however.

"Yay! You did it!" Gohan said, clapping his hands. Goten cracked open first one eye and then the other, tickled that his older brother hung before him with love and obvious pride shining in his eyes.

Beyond them, closer to the tree line, someone began to clap. Both brothers turned and spotted the spiky black hair that resembled their own so much.

"Daddy!" shrieked Goten. He hurled himself at his father with exuberance, unaware of the uncomfortable, raw flash of emotion on his older brother's face. Goku caught the look right before the miniature whirlwind that was Son Goten slammed into Goku's chest.

Gohan followed more sedately, considering his father and brother. When Goku had first returned, Goten had called him Papa, something Gohan figured was due to how Trunks sometimes referred to Vegeta. But lately, 'Papa' had become 'Daddy:' an emotional echo from Gohan's childhood.

"I fly!" Goten told Goku happily.

"Flew, Goten," Gohan corrected gently. Goten nodded, clearly content to be in his father's arms.

"I flew," Goten repeated.

"I know!" Goku exclaimed. "You are getting really good!"

"Gohan teach me!" The child elaborated. His speech had nearly tripled after Goku's return. Gohan thought it probably had to do with how much Goten felt he had to tell his new daddy, but having Bird available as an instant big sister didn't hurt.

"Gohan's a very good teacher," Goku said, turning his powerful smile over onto Gohan. "Are you ready to go fishing?"

"Yes! Yes!" Goten shrieked. Goku had told both boys two days before that they were going fishing today and Goten had looked forward to it with open enthusiasm. Gohan had been reserved, but happy with the idea. Goku had hoped the excursion would relax his eldest and that the teen would lower his guard. Goku missed the easy-going, happy child that Gohan had once been.

"First things, first," he announced. "We have to find some worms and grab our lunch down there." Goku looked below them at the tree line and slowly descended.

Chichi had been thrilled with Goku's idea and had said she would whip up a delicious lunch for them to take. She and Bird were going to have a girl's only day in town. Goku smiled at the thought of his wife and the simi-android girl. Chichi had latched onto the girl with all the fierce protective instincts that she had for her own boys. Bird helped her in the house and she attended to her school work right along with Gohan and Goten—she even helped the younger child with his work.

"You know, Daddy used to catch fish with his hands," Gohan whispered to Goten, his dark eyes cut to the side, a smile on his face.

"Like you?" The little boy's face was innocent and trusting, completely open with his brother. Goku smiled at the child's tone.

Once Goku had scooped up the basket of lunch, he took Goten's hand and they lifted into the air and turned toward Goku's favorite lake. The tiny lake was on the northwest foot of Mt Paozu. Goku had taken Gohan there many times before…

Gohan flew behind his father and quietly brooded, trying to push the last time he had been at the lake far from his mind. Goten chattered like a parrot in front of him.

"Did you know a pish ated Gohan?" he asked their father. Goku caught him in a gentle smile.

"Is that so?" He asked. His dark eyes squinted back at Gohan, sending warmth in the teenager's direction.

"Mmm hmm," Goten replied. "It went _**slurp!**_ and sucked Gohan's arm in; it was scawy!" Goku laughed easily, the sound infectious and drawing Gohan in.

"I bet it spit him right back out, didn't it?" Their father asked. Goten drifted curiously, his small frame shuddering with giggles.

"Nope! Brother thew it on the ground! It flop flop flopped awound and looked weally funny." Goten laughed gleefully. Something within Gohan's spirit flop flopped along with the memory of the poor terrified pish. Gohan had quickly killed it and carried the huge thing back to his mother, who had chopped it up and added it to a large pot of fish soup that the boys ate with gusto. Goten laughed again, sending shockwaves through his brother's chest.

"What did you guys do with that big ole fish?" Goku asked the boy. Goten made a face.

"Gohan killed it and then we ate 'im," he said quietly, a frown on his little face. Gohan smiled sadly, acknowledging that his kid brother felt the same way Gohan had.

"Yeah, that happens, but we have to eat, yes? Was he good?" Goku added, leading them down toward the ground. Goten's expression broke into a large, Goku-like grin.

"Yup! He was soooo yummy! Mommy put 'im in a pot and cooketed 'im." Goku laughed at Goten's innocent words.

"Mommy's really good at that," he offered. Gohan touched down on the ground behind them and held his breath as he took in the scenery. Nothing had changed. The hills still sloped gently down to where the water was, the trees still trembled with the breeze in the background, and the air was still crisp and fresh. Still, a thickness pressed against Gohan's chest, drawing his happiness away.

"Okay, Gohan?" His father asked, turning and giving him a look. Goten had scampered a few feet ahead of them, investigating the sights and sounds around the little lake. Gohan shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah," he said. His voice was no higher than a whispered. Goku's gaze lingered a while longer on his eldest, but Goten's happy shrieking drew both father and son.

"Come on," he said to Gohan. "Let's go see what your brother found; then we have to get some worms."

DBZ

Three hours later, Goten had fallen asleep, curled up on the grass beneath the large shade tree they had set up their poles nearby. The little boy had caught three tiny fish that they had thrown back. He had been the only one. Once the sun rose to its highest point, the air around them bounced from the water and heated up until Gohan shucked his jacket and hung it on a tree limb. Gohan lay back, his newly healed flesh pressed into the still green grass. He tucked his hands behind his head, creating a pillow, and stretched his legs out straight on the grass.

"Hey, Gohan," his father started. "How's school going?" Gohan eyed his father curiously for a moment before he turned his face back up to the thin sun and closed his eyes.

"It's good," he said. "nothing new, really."

"What would you think about going to school in Satan city?" He asked quietly. Gohan's dark eyes popped open in surprise. He sat up and looked at his father.

"What?" He asked. Goku's eyebrows pulled together as he squinted up to the bright sky.

"You're mother and I have talked about it in the last couple of days," Goku admitted. He reached over and nudged his tree limb turned fishing pole. "Bulma actually suggested it, but your mother isn't so sure that you're ready yet."

Goku turned to meet Gohan's eyes. "What do you think?"

Gohan dropped his gaze down to the grass beside him, trying to make his mind work past the surprise he felt. On one hand, he loved to be homeschooled: he felt he received a better education that way. But on the other side, he never had any interaction between his peers. He was so accustomed to being around the adults in his life, that he would sometimes forget that he was only fifteen.

Fifteen. He was still a little floored that he was fifteen and had saved the world once, and helped save the world many times over before that. What a life!

"Gohan?" His father asked. Goku's expression was open, curious, and filled with a warmth that Gohan knew he would never get tired of seeing. His father loved him. Warmth spread through his chest, into his bones and all of the way down to his toes.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I think it would be really cool; I could be around tons of other kids my own age and learn from an actual teacher and not just a book."

"So, do you want to do it?" Goku asked. Gohan bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders.

"Can I think about it?" he asked. He cuts his eyes sideways to his father. "You wouldn't be able to follow me to school every single day, you know; and Piccolo would stick out if he just walked around the city."

"Don't worry, Vegeta is relatively close by," Goku said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Gohan groaned, unimpressed.

"You know, I think I can go by myself without you sending a babysitter after me," Gohan snapped. Goku raised his eyebrows at him. "I can protect myself! Especially since you took that damn block off of my arm!"

"Gohan, calm down, I did not mention this for you to get mad," Goku said. "I feel better having someone near you at all times; I'm your father, aren't I supposed to do what's best for you?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, he knew he had used the wrong words. Gohan jumped to his feet, furious.

"Yeah, you're supposed to," he mumbled. He turned around and stalked away, closer to the water. Goku sighed, weary of the fight and heartbroken that the fight existed in the first place because of him. He watched his son's rigid spine as he stood with his back to his father.

The teenager, for the most part, was still trying to push away his aggravation. Some random part of his mind had warned him that it was not so easily done with, but to still feel _so angry…_ Sickly, the old bloodlust filled his ears for a moment, drying out Gohan's mouth and leaving him with hollowness inside. He heard his father's footsteps behind him.

"Gohan, you know that I love you," he started, laying his hands on Gohan's shoulders. "I'm not trying to be mean, son, I just want to do what I think is best to keep you safe; there's a dangerous person after you. In fact, they took you and beat you horribly—"

"Yeah, right from under your nose!" Gohan snapped again. He shrugged his father's hands off. "You were just yards away, Dad, and they still got me! You didn't save me then, so why do you think you still need to constantly be there?"

Goku dropped his hands to his sides, his heart thudding in his chest with remorse. Gohan was right; Goku did not protect him then, so why did he insist someone escort him?

"Gohan, I don't want to fight with you, I know it isn't always what you want to do, but I am trying to do what is best for you because I love you. Having someone around is increased protection. It doesn't mean it won't happen, but the chances decrease." Gohan shot him a surprised glance.

"Wow, Dad, that was positively smart sounding," the teenager quipped. "Did Bulma tell you to say that?"

"Haha Gohan, believe it or not but I am smart sometimes," he said. Curling his fingers around Gohan's shoulders, Goku pulled backwards until the teenager's back pressed up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around his son and rested his chin on Gohan's head.

They stood that way for a while. Gohan frowned and glared at the water, his mind buzzing with the question of going to school buffeted by the soul stopping thrum of bloodlust that echoed in his ears.

"We'll talk more about it later, okay?" Goku

asked. He tightened his arms around Gohan and kissed him on top of the head before he released the teenager. "Come on, son, let's catch whatever fish is yankin' on our poles!"

DBZ

The day had been a success! They had caught two huge fish—the largest being on Goten's pole—and had returned to their mountain home with the booty. They smelled of fish and dirt and fresh sunshine, and not surprisingly the combination was not very pleasant, so Goku had suggested a bath as soon as they had walked through the door.

"I stink," Goten whispered to Gohan, pulling his own shirt away from his chest and sniffing it. The little boy made a face and wrinkled his little nose in distaste. Gohan laughed as he peeled his own sweaty gi away from his skin. The day had actually been cool and beautiful, but after Goten had woken from his nap, the real fun had begun. As if sensing that the youngest Son boy had become conscious again, the fish began jumping and flopping around happily in a teasing dance that left Goten's laughter peeling throughout the narrow valley. They had chased each other and played in a way that was carefree and easy for Gohan: something that he had been missing for so long that he had not realized how much he had been lacking.

"Eeeww," Goten said, stripping away his bottoms and shoes until he stood in the bathroom in only his underwear. Mud was smeared from one end of him to the other. It was caked around his ankles and neck and there was even some coming out of his nose. Gohan laughed.

"You're adorable," Gohan chuckled. Goten laughed and flashed him a smile. The teenager had just finished pulling the rest of his clothes off, but for his boxers, when there was a knock on the bathroom door. Goku poked his head in, laughing at the sight of both of his boys caked in mud with clumps of the sticky wet goo even in their black hair.

"Well aren't you two cute!" He said, pushing open the door and revealing himself dressed in only his boxers with a small box in his hand. He lifted the metallic box and before Gohan could react, his father snapped a picture. Gohan blinked in the aftermath of the flash, laughter bubbling up from the pit of his stomach.

"Hey! Not fair!" He said indignantly. Goten hoped over to his daddy and grabbed at the camera, but Goku was quicker and took another shot with it, catching Goten's dirty, smeared grin. Gohan slipped past his dad, chuckling as Goten attacked the man. Goku raised his hands and the camera above his head, out of the child's reach, but Gohan plucked it from his fingers.

"Wait a minute!" Goku called as the teenager dashed for the door, laughter echoing off the walls. Goku—with Goten still looped around his neck—gave chase to his eldest, following him outside and around the side of the house where Goku had set up the circular metal tub set on cinder blocks. A crisp fire blazed beneath the tub, and already, there were warm bubbles beginning to ascend to the surface.

Gohan stopped suddenly and leaped into the sky, turning and snapping several pictures of Goku with Goten wrapped around his neck.

"Gotcha!" he called happily. He had paused too long, however, and Goku jumped after him and caught him around the waist, tossing him back to the ground. Gohan curled around the camera to protect it as he hit the ground, the sudden impact, although minimal, was still enough to jar some of the recently broken bones. His laughter caught in his throat, but the teenager hurtled to his feet, ignored the twinge and dashed off into the forest, his father hot on his trail.

Taking a chance, Gohan glanced backwards as he shot off to the right, circling around behind their house. His father was nowhere to be seen, so Gohan slowed his pace, throwing his senses around to try and locate his father and brother.

"Yah!" A shout was his only warning before his father appeared to his right suddenly and scooped him up in his arms. Goten, his little cohort grabbed the camera from his hands, a distinctive Goku-ish grin on the impish little face. Goku hurried for the tub, his fingers finding the extremely ticklish spots on Gohan's ribs.

"NO!" Gohan screamed, laughter bubbling up to lessen the impact of his cries. A wild, uncontrollable grin broke over his face as he squirmed and twisted, trying to both escape his father's invading fingers, but also to escape his destination.

Without so much as a grunt, Goku tossed the teenager at the water. Laughter exploded again from Gohan's chest, and as his head went under, water filled his mouth and nose. He scrambled for the surface and rose, sputtering water through back breaking, choking giggles. Before he had his breath totally back, Goten's little body hit the water, drenching him with more water to gasp through.

"Are you going to make it?" His father asked as he, too, joined the boys in the warm water. He gently smacked Gohan's back and grabbed his arms to hold them over the teenager's head. Gohan laughed through his gasps.

"Maybe!" He choked out. He reached for his father and latched onto the man, pinning him with his arms as he hurled himself at the surface of the water. They both went under and came up laughing, Gohan still gasping and choking on water. Goten launched himself at the father and son, sending them all flopping back down into the water again. When they surfaced again, subtle flashing and a repetitive clicking sound alerted them to another's presence.

"Well you boys must have had fun today!" Chichi stood closer to the tub with the camera in her hands, rapidly snapping pictures of the three Son boys as they horsed around in the water. The water line in the tub had to be about half less than when they had started. Bird stood beside her, her large eyes squinted in obvious joy.

"Chichi!" Goku called, lavishing his bride with a look of pure love on his face. The Ox Princess blushed and brought the camera up to snap another picture to cover her shy reaction. Goku sat down in the water and leaned back against the side, his gaze still riveted on his wife and Bird. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course," Chichi replied happily. Goten sidled up to his father with a sly smile and reached up to dump water from an old plastic cup over his father's head. Goku chuckled through the water running over his face and grabbed the little boy, flipped him upside down and dunked him head first into the water. Chichi snapped another picture and laughed.

"Had enough yet?" Goku asked, cradling the little boy in his arms and gently tickling his belly. Goten giggled and sighed happily as he relaxed in his father's arms. He nodded up at Goku; his cheeks flushed and rounded, while his eyes began to droop. The camera went off again, capturing the precious moments and freezing them in time.

Gohan smiled and chuckled softly, for once merely content as he watched the affection between his father and brother. He glanced up at Bird, who had remained quiet and winked at her; her smile widened in return.

"Hey," Goku said, grabbing Gohan's bicep suddenly and tugging the teenager over until their hips bumped and his father threw an arm around him. "You need to be in this picture, too!" Again, the camera clicked several times. Chichi finally lowered the camera to the little table beside the door and sighed.

"Did you catch anything?" She asked as Bird picked up two large shopping backs and carried them inside. Goku nodded, but the youngest Son beat him to the punch.

"Yes!" He crowed sleepily. "I got the big one!"

"Well, good job, Baby!" Chichi cried, clapping her hands in delight. Goten grew quiet again.

"Papa had to kill it," he said sadly. Gohan looked down to hide his smile.

"Yes, but think of how delicious it will be to eat tonight," she soothed. She glanced at Gohan, her expression growing tense. "Did Brother have fun?"

"Yes, Brother had fun," Gohan chuckled, giving his mother another smile. A twang resounded through his chest as he realized that he owed his mother a lot, the least of which was an apology. Chichi smiled, nodded her head and turned for the house. She stooped to pick up three more bags before she headed for the door, stopping just outside the door.

"You three had better get nice and clean! I'll have supper ready soon," she ordered before disappearing into the house. Goku chuckled, drawing Gohan's attention. Goten had finally given into his uncontrollable urges and slept with his temple resting against Goku's shoulder. Gohan shook his head.

"He's wore out," he murmured. A yawn suddenly attacked him, drawing tears to his eyes. Bleary, he blinked the moisture away as his father laughed softly.

"He's not the only one," he said. Gohan shrugged and leaned back against the cool metal of the tank and allowed his eyes to drift shut and his thoughts to roam. The subject of going to school appeared in the darkness beyond his eyes.

"Dad," he started, opening his eyes and glancing at the older Saiyajin. "Will Mom really let me go to a public school?" Goku nodded his head, his black eyes luminous in the growing darkness; apparently the father was as sleepy as the sons. Gohan accepted that and turned back to his internal thoughts.

The question for him was truly whether he _wanted_ to go to school. There were so many options for him now and he had the feeling that while there would be options going to school, he would have even more restrictions placed on him than what he currently had. The teenager frowned and pushed those thoughts away.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get cleaned up; I think the both of you are about to fall asleep," Goku said from beside him. Gohan smiled and splashed him mildly with water.

"Hey, so are you, old man," he chuckled. Goku smiled and reached over, placed his hand squarely on Gohan's head and shoved him under the water, scrubbing the teenager's hair one handed with soap once he was submerged.

Fifteen minutes later all three of the Son boys entered the house with towels wrapped about them, smelling ten times better than they did when they had gone into the water. Goten was still barely awake, his soft, clean cheek resting against Goku's shoulder during supper—which was baked fresh fish, rice, and more delicious, fresh veggies from his mother's garden. Gohan, for his part was wiped and spent the entire meal with his elbow on the table to prop up his head as he shoveled food into his mouth.

He was thankful when the meal was over and it was finally bedtime. He quickly spread 'goodnights' to all of his family members and hurried to his soft, comfortable bed, his body thrilling happily as he tossed the comforter back and slid beneath the sweet, clean sheets. His window was open and a gentle breath of air swept into the room and brushed his skin, easing him down into a deep sleep.

DBZ

When Gohan awoke, a strange dread filled his belly. Outside his window was rough and windy, the trees nearly snapping from the force. While inside his bedroom it was quiet and calm. So quiet that Gohan felt a shiver of fear race from his scalp to his toes.

Something was not right.

The teenager took a deep breath and swung his feet out from under his sheets, resting them against the cool floor. He frowned and stretched his senses out, trying to find his family, but no trace of another human existed within the confines of his home.

_**Piccolo**_?

A deep silence so loud that it echoed within his head greeted him in reply. He took another deep breath, trying to still his pulsing heart, and stood up from his bed. Quickly and silently he crept through his door and down the hallway. No lights shone off of the walls, no noises from the kitchen greeted him, no snoring even made its way into the hallway. With a horrible feeling growing in his stomach, he continued down the hall to the kitchen.

He trailed his finger tips along the wall and gripped the doorframe gently as he turned the corner into the kitchen. He felt stupid acting this way in his own home, but something was just _not right_!

And apparently it was the kitchen. The room was in total disarray and with a start, Gohan realized that the table was broken into pieces and there were blood stains on the floor. His breath quickened, his heart rate intensified and a roar entered his ears as he looked around and realized that the wall was still dented from where his pretend father had tried to throw him through it.

Shudders ran the length of his body, chilling him and numbing his fingertips. His stomach filled with acid and butterflies—or more like killer bees—while his head began to throb. He turned and hurled himself through the front door and across the windswept yard.

Gohan was nearly to the line of trees when a harsh set of hands jerked him back and tossed him to the ground like a rag doll. Above him, a veritable mountain of intimidation and cruelty, stood Son Goku.

A thrill of absolute terror filled him at the alien expression on his father's face and in an instant, Gohan knew he was back in Hell. He rolled over and scrambled to his feet, his heart beating horribly loud in his ears as he tore away from the evil incarnation of his father.

"You can never get away from me, boy!" His father's said, his voice filled with joyful malice, sounding more like Turles than Goku. He dropped down in front of Gohan's escape and smiled wildly. Gohan's entire frame trembled with a full body fear that he had never known before. He was struck speechless by the man's threatening presence, but as Goku leaned down to snatch his left wrist, Gohan felt his vision swirl and quake with a terror so deep he could feel it from his toes to his fingertips.

"You will never escape me," Goku whispered, bring Gohan right up next to his face. The teenager could feel his father's breath against his cheek, and an instant later, it was the back of his father's hand against his face. He flew a few feet away, his back bouncing off of the hard ground, stealing his breath. He sat up coughing, and a moment later, a scream wrenched from his vocal cords as his father's fist penetrated his left side. Blood flowed from the wound as Goku removed his hand with a sickening squelch of flesh and blood before he yanked Gohan up by his shoulders and began to shake him.

"Daddy," Gohan gasped. Fire blazed in his wound, causing tears to etch his eyes. "Please, stop…"

Darkness edged into his vision, tilting his perception dangerously until the scene grew smaller and smaller in his eyes, finally disappearing into nothing. He could still feel the strong arms shaking him and the voice above him.

"Gohan!" His father said. With a wrench, the teenager opened his eyes and wildly thrashed his arms about him. His power exploded around him, bright lightning racing up and down his body as his father was blown away from him. With a scream, his bedroom exploded into the night sky with a shower of wood and other debris. He hurled himself into the blackened sky, the golden shower of the ascended Saiyajin the only light in the darkness.

"Go'an!"

Confusion punctured his mind as he looked below him at the ruin of his home, and with a growing dread, he realized that never, ever before in Nightmare Goku's world, had he heard his baby brother's voice.

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: A double shot for my friends! Hope you all enjoy! Not to get your hopes up, but I should be cranking them out better now._

Chapter Five

"I Focus On The Pain, The Only Thing That's Real"

-Johnny Cash (Nine Inch Nails cover, 'Hurt')

"Gohan!"

Below him, where his bedroom had been at one point, thick circles of flames danced and licked at the broken wood. It was almost a surreal feeling within him as he froze where he was and watched the ground below him. He saw his father rush to the flames and surge a wall of ki at the wild flames, distinguishing them in an instant before he rushed into the destroyed room.

So frozen in shock, Gohan did not realize at first that he was not alone, but behind him, a voice broke into his awareness.

"Gohan, what happened?" Piccolo asked. The teenager could not tear his eyes away from the destruction from below, although he was aware of his teacher's presence. Below him, his mother was dragging Bird out into the yard, nearly hysterical.

And in an instant, reality plunged into the fifteen year old: it had only been a dream. Ice crawled up his spine and clamped his heart in a terrified clutch and without conscious thought, he plummeted to the ground below. His entire frame began to shiver and shake as if he were having withdrawals as he landed on the hard ground. His mother's hysteria was catching, causing his heart rate to speed and his mind to reel; his knees became nothing but soup and with a semi-hysterical cry, Gohan collapsed.

Sub consciously, Gohan did a head count, ignoring Piccolo's hands on his shoulders, and realized that his little brother was nowhere to be seen. Horror so acute that he was positive he would never forget the emotion, Gohan flew to his feet and threw himself at the remains of his bedroom, a scream on his lips.

"Gohan!" His mother cried. His vision was tunneled as he took in the state of his bedroom—shattered wood graced the floor; his bed was gone, his desk sat crooked against the wall, and his bookcase was upside down. His father hurried from the ruble just as Gohan reached it, his normally joyous expression gray. In his arms was a tiny body with a shock of black hair.

Gohan's vision doubled and tripled, threatening to drown him.

"Daddy?" He asked, his voice tremulous. "Is he okay?"

Goku seemed to look right through him in a daze as he walked quickly from the destroyed room. Without a word, his father touched his two first fingers to his forehead and disappeared instantly. Gohan was frozen where his father had left him, terror like jagged rips of agony pulling him to his knees, unable to support his own weight. He shivered, shock rising inside him, dragging him down, tinting his vision with darkness and his heart with a dulling pain so harsh he gasped for air.

"Gohan!" His mother had finally reached him, her dark hair tangling wildly about her shoulders and hips. Her face was bleached white with fear as she dropped down beside him, her hands grasping his arms desperately. Bird dropped down beside them, her own expression wide eyed and terror filled. "What happened?"

"I'm so sorry!" The teenager gasped out. Heat flooded his face and entered his eyes, blinding him to his mother's face. Chichi tightened her grip on him, but said nothing.

"Gohan," Piccolo said from above them. Air still pulling raggedly from Gohan's chest, he looked up at his mentor and friend. Piccolo's eyes were dark, his stance unyielding. "You're father took Goten to Dende's Lookout; Goten is going to be fine."

Air gushed from his lungs in a sigh of unexpressed grief. He wound his arms about himself, still trying to understand everything that had happened. Closing his eyes, he pulled the hated images of his nightmare to the forefront of his mind. With a new, ragged understanding, Gohan new that he had destroyed his room, and that Goten had a habit of climbing into his bed in the middle of the night…

Another instant, and Goku had winked back into existence, Goten curled happily into his shoulder. Chichi shrieked and nearly snatched the little boy from his father's arms, sobbing with relief. Bird moved closer to Gohan, her arms encircling him from behind. Her breath was shallow and hot against his ear, calming him. Gohan closed his eyes, determined to capture the outright terror and push it away so that he could function. A firm grip on his shoulder made him flinch back.

"Gohan," his father said gently. "Open your eyes and look at me."

Bird's arms tightened. Gohan's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but a small voice surprised him.

"Gohan?" He opened his eyes, and there before him was his baby brother. Goten's skin was dirty and smudged, but it was whole. His little brow was scrunched up in confusion, his eyes bright and trusting. Shame rippled through Gohan, rendering him speechless. He pulled the child close to him, cradling him against his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Goten," he whispered raggedly. Goten touched the side of his face with his small fingers.

"I'm okay, Gohan," the little boy whispered back. Hands on Gohan's shoulders surprised him. He looked up and to his left, his mother knelt beside him, one hand on Gohan and the other on Goten. To his right was Goku, one hand on his eldest and the other on his youngest. Bird appeared behind him again, her thin arms wound about his neck again, while Piccolo's strong presence dominated the space behind him.

"Everything's okay," Goku whispered, his tone calming. The fear that had gripped Gohan had receded, leaving Gohan ragged and exhausted. Goten was safe in his arms. What more could he ask for?

DBZ

Later that morning, Gohan sat on top of a plateau, dangling his legs over the edge and thinking. He and Goku had cleaned up the mess side by side with Goten's help. His little brother had told him that he had had a bad dream and had crawled in bed with him in the middle of the night. His father had said nothing more of the evening's events, but Gohan had the feeling that he was being very un-Goku like and _thinking_ about what to say.

So, just as soon as the destruction was cleaned up, Gohan skedaddled. He had flown for a few hours until he was tired and then he had set down in his sensei's old haunts. His brain was exhausted from circling the nightmare and what he was supposed to do if he awoke every night mare like he had that one…

"So there you are." Gohan started and slid off of the plateau, his rear bumping off the side, his arms flailing to keep him balanced. His father laughed and hauled him back up onto the plateau by his arms.

"Whoa there, son," Goku laughed, clapping Gohan on the back. "I'm not supposed to be able to sneak up on you."

"Yeah, well, I was distracted," Gohan said. Goku merely smiled in return and settled on the edge of the plateau next to him.

"That's understandable," Goku agreed. Gohan shifted uncomfortably, but kept his silence, waiting for his father to speak. His mind had run across several solutions as he had flown, none of which were exceptionally appealing. One of which was that he could simply leave, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he would get about as far away as he had when he had tried to run from Vegeta and Piccolo. He shifted with remembered shame and frowned; he never had apologized to Piccolo for any of that. He swallowed and tried to put all of that out of his mind; old habits rose up to tempt him with a fix that Gohan knew would do way more harm than good. It was alarming that something that had sustained him for so long was now something that he fought against on a daily basis.

"That's some look on your face, son," Goku said quietly. The teenager shook himself out of his rather morbid thoughts and glanced at his father before he shrugged. Goku sighed and took in the beauty around them.

"Gohan," he started. "What happened this morning was an accident—"

"I know that." Gohan's tone was husky and sharp as he interrupted. Oh yeah, he knew it was an accident…

"So Goten's okay, Gohan," Goku continued. The teenager stood abruptly, his body language stiff and jumpy. Goku sighed again and studied the demi Saiyajin. "It's not your fault, Gohan."

"You don't think so?" Gohan asked his father, but his tone was accusatory. The muscle beneath the skin on his jaw rippled as he grit his teeth. "Accidents can't happen with me, remember?" Goku frowned.

"Gohan, I know you're scared, but Goten is fine and we can rebuild the house; we're going to figure all this out."

"Yeah?" The teenager crossed his arms and stared hard at his father. "Any ideas yet?"

Goku blew out his breath, blowing strands of his ebony hair off of his face. "A couple, yeah." Gohan narrowed his eyes at him in doubt.

"Such as?"

"For one, I think you should wear the Energy Block at night," his father whispered. Gohan paused and glared at the surrounding landscape, cursing Nightmare Goku to Hell and back again. He heaved a sigh and ran his hands through his hair.

"I'd rather just leave home and sleep in the forest," he said softly. Goku looked at him sharply.

"No." Gohan was taken aback by the man's tone and merely stared at him for a moment.

"I wasn't asking for your permission," he ground out tightly. He clenched his fists tightly together, the muscles along his arms shifting and tightening in frustration. Goku's eyes narrowed for a moment but then his father stood and turned to him, his black eyes tired.

"How about a spar, Gohan? Will that make you feel better?" Gohan growled low in the back of his throat and glared at the distant hills. Goku lifted off of the ground and drifted a few feet away still facing his son.

Frustration battled against anger and other emotions Gohan was not willing to delve into as he followed his father into the air. Around him, Gohan could feel the tension in the air, the raw thrilling tremble in the air around him as his father summoned the change. Gritting his teeth, Gohan took a deep breath and grounded his emotions before he allowed his power to surge forward, burning him with the familiar heat as his hair turned canary yellow and his eyes tinted to a sharp emerald.

The air stilled as they faced each other.

Within a second, so fast that no human could have followed them, the two met in the air. A sonic boom announced their presence and shook the ground for miles away.

For his own part, Gohan allowed his instinct to over take him as he moved, meeting his father's strikes and playing defensive, allowing his father to push him. In that mild instant, Gohan understood why his father trained as he did; he understood why Goku loved the fight so much—it was an amazing feeling when your body responded to every punch and kick as if that was what you were created to do. And in a way, Gohan supposed, they _were_ created to do just that. They were Saiyajin, after all.

He allowed Goku to push him back until he was between his father and the hard rock of the plateau, trapped. Goku came at him, his left hand fisted and aimed for his head, but Gohan moved, dodging the attack. He yelped in surprise as Goku caught him with his left foot in his abdomen instead. He floated back a few feet, his right hand pressed to his abdomen before he charged angrily at the man. In a flurry of fists and feet, he pushed the older Saiyajin back again.

This continued on for what seemed like a few minutes. They would push each other back and forth until Gohan charged an energy blast and sent it at his father. His chest heaved and with a shock, he realized that his muscles were sore and beginning to weaken from the strain.

He yelped as Goku batted the ki ball back at him, a grim determination in his father's face. Too tired to dodge, Gohan was tossed backwards like a rag doll as the ki ball exploded over him, behind the bright eruption from the energy, his father appeared and sent him reeling into the hard ground with a strong right hook.

Doubt began to edge into the teenager after that, but he viciously pushed it back and rocketed back up to his father, determination pouring into his veins and fueling him. He drew back a punch and let it fly, hitting his father square on the jaw, but in return, Goku grabbed him by the scruff of his gi and slammed him abdomen first into his knee, tossing him back to the earth.

Gohan gasped and was blinded by a raw panic that seized his heart and made it sputter. With terror edging up his spine, the teenager screamed, allowing the full breadth of his power to light up the darkening sky.

"Gohan!" Goku gasped as he was ki battered. As quickly as the power came, it was gone and in the epicenter, amid an unnatural spiral of destruction, stood Gohan, his shoulders heaving from the strain.

"Wow," Goku said, awed by the display of power. In all the years since the Cell game, Goku had never realized that his son had never fully grasped his extreme power. It put a smile of pride on his lips, which soon disappeared as Gohan's legs buckled and he crashed to the ground in an undignified heap.

DBZ

"So, I guess we can finish our conversation now, right?" Gohan frowned in confusion as he opened his eyes and blinked up at the dusky sky. Beside him, his father sat with his back against a cliff side and his eyes riveted on Gohan. With a groan, the teenager leaned up on his elbows, noting that his entire body hurt.

"Geez, what happened?" He reached up and pressed across his forehead with the fingers of his right hand.

"Well, we were having a really good spar and then you tried to destroy everything within ten miles, and then you fainted," his father answered with annoying cheerfulness. Gohan glared at him, but Goku merely smiled wider.

"I did not faint," the teenager argued, struck that he had had this conversation before. Annoyed, he sat up and scrubbed his face with his hand and then reached around to massage the back of his neck. "Ugh, are you sure that you didn't just beat the shit out of me and then forget?"

"Nope," he replied, his dark eyes narrowed on the teenager. "And don't say bad words." He stretched his arms out in front of him and watched his son.

"So, what do you think we should do about your nightmares?" He asked. Gohan immediately tensed and pulled his legs under him, crossing them.

"I already told you what I wanted to do and you shot it down pretty quick," Gohan said shortly. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared out across the landscape again. Goku nearly went cross-eyed with irritation at his son's touchy attitude.

"Gohan, you will not be out by yourself—especially not at night. It's not even up for discussion. As for your nightmares…" Goku paused and pressed his lips together in thought for a moment.

"Gohan, I want you to wear the Energy Block at night," he said softly. Gohan's expression darkened, but he kept silent. Goku shifted and watched his son with discomfort, his own heart aching that the need for the Energy Block would even be there.

"Say something, please," Goku said quietly. Gohan took a deep breath and released it, easing some of the tension in his chest before he met his father's gaze.

"Okay," he whispered. It really was not a difficult decision—even though he would rather beg Vegeta for a training session—because he couldn't get the vision of Goten's small body in his father's arms out of his head.

The father and son sat quietly for a few minutes. Gohan stared up at the ever darkening sky, his mind wandering from one thing to another, never resting for long on a single thing. Goku's on the other hand, rotated around one subject: Gohan.

"Dad," Gohan whispered quietly. "How do I find out what the Blaque Stone is?"

"I don't know, Gohan," Goku replied with a frown. "But you don't need to worry about it, Kiddo, 'cause we're going to figure this out; no one will take you away from me again."

Gohan turned his dark eyes onto his father, his thoughts stalled by his father's words. He wanted to be able to trust what Goku claimed. He wanted to know without a doubt that he would be safe, and that they would not leave him on his own. Warmth enveloped him as he realized that Goku _wanted_ to protect him.

Now if only he could.

DBZ

That night, the stars spread out above the earth like a bright canopy. Off to the east, a high bank of clouds descended over the earth. Jagged ropes of lightening shot out of the clouds while thunder boomed off in the distance. The air was cool and filled with a thick humidity that promised a good show and a drenching storm.

Piccolo hung three stories off of the ground. His head was bent and his legs tucked up beneath him as was a custom with the warrior, while his mind was as calm and still as a glassy pond.

"Do you ever do anything but meditate?"

"Nope," he replied dryly. He heard the boy inhale and blow out his breath, no doubt trying to find something else to say.

"Piccolo, did you know that lightning doesn't actually _strike_ the ground, but more or less it meets in the air?"

"Hm," Piccolo commented. Silence reigned for endless seconds before the boy couldn't stand it any longer.

"Bird is fitting right in at our house; Mother loves her! I think Mom wishes more and more she had been blessed with a girl instead of us boys. At least she lets me teach Goten some, she never wanted me to learn _anything_ about fighting or ki manipulation or anything."

Again, Piccolo remained quiet but for an obtuse response deep in his throat. He had a feeling as to why his student had searched him out and he knew that to make it too easy for the boy was to invite an endless guilt trip.

"Piccolo, will you stop ignoring me and talk to me?" The child's voice had changed until it sounded more like it had all those years ago. "I have something to say."

The green warrior cracked open his eyes and favored the teenager with an impassive gaze, but remained where he hung in the air. Gohan's expression spoke yards of what had been gnawing on him. His fingers were curled together nervously while a deep frown cut into his youthful expression. His black eyes were open and child-like and filled with heavy emotion. The teenager swallowed heavily and glanced below them at the green grass and the rolling hills before he found his resolve and his courage to look at his teacher again.

"I'm sorry, Piccolo," he said softly, the wind sweeping his dark hair across his eyes. He took another breath again before he spoke. "I'm sorry for the things I said, I'm sorry you had to hunt me down, and I'm sorry I screwed up so badly."

Gohan looked away again, appearing to struggle with what he had to say.

"I just had—I had to figure some things out on my own, you know? I was—I _am_ still screwed up and I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for causing you trouble." Once the teenager had finished his apology, he hung there in midair with his dark eyes on his former master and seemed to await a pronouncement. Piccolo favored him with a slow perusal before he spoke.

"Everything is fine, Gohan; I do not hold you accountable for the things you did then. Your father dealt with you and I'm sure that you will be fine." Gohan dropped his gaze again and blushed as embarrassment flushed through him again. Piccolo—along with every other friend of the family's—had seen his father beat the hell out of him. Even worse was that everyone had seen him bawl like a baby afterwards.

Piccolo made a sound in his throat.

"Enough, Gohan," he ordered gruffly. "It is done."

Gohan brought his gaze up to meet Piccolo's dark ones and nodded his head, accepting his teacher's words although he did not feel them all of the way through his bones. Perhaps that would come later. Piccolo came out of his pose cat-like and smirked.

"You could make it up to me," he said shortly, eyeing the boy. Gohan felt relief drop to his shoulders as he smiled back and crouched into a fighting stance.

"You got it!" Piccolo actually laughed as he, too, dropped into a fighter's stance.

_There now, I have wanted to write this for a while. I think it goes against Gohan's personality to cause trouble, but the situations being what they are, finds himself unable to help it sometimes._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Have to stand up to be stronger"

-"Pale" by Within Temptation

_Welcome back! ^_^_

_AN: WARNING! This chapter will be rather graphic and bloody._

"Hey," Gohan said quietly they next morning. Bird looked up, her expression breaking into a wide grin as she saw Gohan leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen. She rested her newly peeled potato in the colander in the sink and wiped her hands on the dish rag

"Hi," she replied, immediately curious at the odd glint in her friend's eyes. "What is up?" Gohan snorted.

"No, it's 'what's up,'" he corrected easily. Bird made a quick face and licked her lips before she tried again.

"What's up?" she asked again, the words felt odd coming from her mouth, but she liked them anyways. Against the door frame, Gohan shrugged his shoulders, eyeing the blond girl with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" He asked quietly. Bird brushed her blond hair back from her face with the back of her hand.

"Chichi said she felt tired, so she went to lay down for a nap. Goku and Goten both laid down, too." Bird frowned at the sudden sparkling glee that nearly curled Gohan's imaginary horns.

"Um," she intoned dumbly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," the demi-Saiyajin said happily, "I have somewhere I think we should go investigate."

DBZ

"Gohan, where are we going?" Bird asked. She had her arms wrapped around the demi-Saiyajin's neck as the wind swept her hair back away from her face as they flew through the air. Gohan had picked her up piggy back style and then had flown into the air, a global positioning device—borrowed from Bulma—in his hands that had a bright gold dot on the screen as their destination.

"Bulma found what might be the coordinates to another secret lab in Sixteen's memory banks," Gohan answered over the roar of the wind.

"Sixteen?" Bird questioned. Her voice was strangely quiet in Gohan's ear. "Who is this?"

"Sixteen was one of Dr. Gero's androids. He loved nature and life, but he had been programmed to kill my father. He helped me stop Cell in a way." Gohan frowned in remembered anguish at the stark image of Sixteen's sudden demise. He quickly shook it off and plummeted downward. Bird's arms tightened comically around the teenager's neck until he choked, but once he slowed his decent beyond the clouds, she relaxed with a sigh.

"Don't worry, you're safe; I wouldn't drop you or anything," Gohan reassured her. He scanned the device in his hands and frowned at the ground below them.

"It should be around here somewhere," Gohan mumbled to himself. The beeping of the GPS grew more insistent as they flew closer to the ground.

"What about there?" Bird whispered breathlessly in his ear and lifted her right arm to point delicately toward a deep ridge surround by jagged teeth of rocks. In the shallow end, Gohan set down and gently crouched to allow Bird to unwind her arms from his neck. Curious, the teenager glanced around at their surrounding before tilting his head to the side to take in Bird's stark expression.

"I know of this," she whispered. Her large eyes were even wider than was normal for her as she perused the landscape. Gohan narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked her. The beep of the GPS interrupted him and distracted him for a moment as he glanced away from Bird and at the screen. "It shows us to be nearly right on top of this thing, but I don't see anything."

Wordlessly, Bird moved toward the ragged wall of the ravine and pressed her left hand against the course rock. She ran her long, slim fingers over the cool rock, a look of calm expectation on her pale face.

"I know this," she murmured again. A strange look crossed her face and she shut her eyes against some inner pain. Concerned, Gohan moved closer and touched her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she sighed, her expression sad, but more normal. "I know this. I have seen this before but I cannot remember correctly. I know there is something here, but I just do not recall where."

"It's ok, Bird, we'll figure it out. The other lab was hidden; I bet this one is, too, we just have to find out where." He was scanning their surroundings again when something odd captured his attention. Tucked against the side of the ravine, nearly the exact same color as the rock itself was a small stuffed bear. He strode over to the pathetic little creature and stooped down to pluck it from the tangle of weeds that had wrapped about it. It was rough and stiff as if it had been forgotten years before by a visiting child. One of its arms barely held on by a literal thread, while white, puffy stuffing was seeping from the wound, but it was nothing some stiches couldn't fix.

"What is it?" Bird asked softly from behind him. Turning, he showed her the battered lovey.

"I bet someone really misses this guy," he murmured. He had never had a lovey—he didn't have time for one when he was young—but Goten had owned a creamy yellow blanket that he had drug around in the dirt, slept with, played with, and eventually destroyed during a serious episode of tug of war with Trunks. Bird inhaled suddenly at the sight of the damaged toy, her eyes turning more grey than blue and her face losing whatever color it normally had.

"Bird?" Gohan asked. She took the stuffy from him and held it firmly with both hands as she stared deeply into the coal black button eyes—one of which hung loosely by three black threads.

"Bird?" Gohan repeated. Bird's lost, nearly vacant expression bothered him. He touched her arm gently, trying to draw her attention. "Bird!"

The half android girl was stiff and stock still, her gaze fixed only on the grey, dirty stuffed bear clenched in her hands. A breeze blew between them, bringing with it the smell of flowers and moist earth—a calming smell that did nothing to calm Gohan's wildly beating heart. Desperate, the demi-Saiyajin grabbed the girl by her upped arms and shook her sharply two times before he set her back on her feet. Startled from her trance, Bird blinked heavily several times at the toy in her hands before she brought her stricken gaze up to Gohan.

"I remember," she breathed, lowering the bear but not releasing it.

"What? Bird what just happened?" Gohan asked, upset by his friend's strange behavior. The slim, blond girl took several deep breaths and stared at the wall of rock, a peculiar glint in her pale eyes.

"This was mine," she explained, showing him the abused teddy. "And I think I can remember where the door used to be." She walked toward the rock face, again running her slim fingers along the rough surface. In stunned silence, Gohan watched her move quickly along the rock face, the teddy bear dangling from her right hand.

"Here," she said, pressing her finger tips into a deep split in the surface of the rock at chest height. With a disturbing groan of much neglect and age, a rectangular shaped section of the course rock pulled away into the rock face.

"Wow," Gohan said, momentarily stunned. He swung around to look at Bird. "What else do you remember?"

"I—I see shadows and hear whispers but…" Bird glanced at the secret entrance. "I cannot remember anything in detail." Gohan glanced between her and the stone door.

"Well let's go see what we can find!" Gohan said. He touched her shoulder as he moved by her and into the damp darkness of the hidden entryway.

The interior of the cave was moist and filled so fully with blackness that it nearly rose up to suffocate Gohan. In the distance he could hear the eerie, slow drip of water and something else that he couldn't quite name. It was almost a whir or a strange hum. Bird's breathing was shallow as she followed him into the darkness.

"Gohan." Her voice trembled as she reached out and grasped his arms tightly in her own sweaty, shaking fingers. "Please, Gohan, we should not be here. I want to leave."

"Not yet," he whispered back. His blood pumped through his body in quarts of adrenaline as he took her hand firmly in his own and continued on, blindly groping the slick walls of the cave. Bird whimpered, but Gohan forced down his own trepidation and ignored the niggling of doubt in the back of his mind.

DBZ

Three hours later, Gohan tugged Bird firmly against his chest as she stumbled again. In his left hand, he held a warm, tightly balled sphere of concentrated ki. The golden orb bounced dim rays of light around the dark cave. They had been walking in giant circles.

And at some point the door to the outside had closed—something Gohan had not counted on. So they had been wondering around for three hours. Thankfully, Gohan had thought of forming a ki ball to light the way within a few minutes of entering the darkness. It still didn't get them out of the predicament that they found themselves in, but it sure helped.

He squinted into the darkness ahead and raised the ki ball above his head. The whirring sound seemed to be getting louder. Throughout the last three hours, the sound had gotten louder, and shank back into the shadows, frustrating Gohan immensely.

"Wait," Bird whispered, her voice tremulous in the near darkness. Slight rustling told Gohan that she was clenching the forgotten bear in her arm. He paused and glanced back at his friend as her fingers tightened against his own.

"Stop here," she whispered again. There was desperate pleading in her voice as Gohan stopped and allowed her to pull him back against the cool moistness of the rock. "There is something stalking us."

The words themselves sent a shiver of terror racing down his spine, but what made it worse was the slight noise that he picked up from behind them in the inky blackness. Beside him, Bird's pale features glimmered eerily in the light from the ki ball as her entire being began to tremble.

"Gohan," she gasped in terror as a horrible slithering sound began from behind them. The sound was accompanied by a low growl that sent Gohan's hands to shaking.

"What is that?" he asked the darkness.

"Gohan, we need to go. NOW!" Bird's hands were clenched around Gohan's bicep as she literally dragged him toward the dim light farther ahead of them.

The slithering sound followed them, growing louder as they hurried desperately toward the light. Memories began to pound into Gohan's head of when he ran through Dr. Wheelo's lab. This was not the icy mountain range, but the fear bubbling within his chest still terrified him.

Abruptly, they found the source of the light. It was nothing but a lamp that was built into the wall. It emitted a gentle golden glow, but offered no other comfort. More security light than anything really.

And behind them, coming from the depths of the darkness, came a sound that would haunt Gohan's dreams for years to come. It was half snarl, half hollow sucking, like some rabid dog that was viciously trying to suck blood through a straw.

Gohan shook the image from his mind, but remained frozen to the spot in terror, Bird's horrible shaking rattling him as well. Or at least that's what he told himself.

Farther down the long curved tunnel, the shadows trembled and shifted and as the two teenagers watched, the dim light of the lantern as well as from Gohan's ki ball reflected an odd gold color off of something. A sudden huff and the sound of the slithering moving faster toward them was their warning and as they watched in horror, a great hulking beast lumbered into the dim circle of light. It was the size of a horse, but not a horse. Instead of the gentle expression and long neck of a horse, the creature had a round, fuzzy head with pointed ears and even more pointy teeth. Its front legs were long and muscular with great paws for feet, while down its back and sides it was thin and sleek, a rusty green color with splotches of grey here and there. Its hind quarters were sloped and made for thrust, again ending in what appeared to be lion's paws, but one of the most astonishing things was the jagged line of bones that protruded down the very center of the creature's back and continued on down to the long, deadly tail that drug on the ground behind it.

The other astonishing—or perfectly horrifying—thing was the tube that was thrust from the creature's neck. It was roughly an inch in diameter and barely an inch above the fur right on the thing's throat. The wretched slurping sound came raggedly from that spot.

Bird made a noise in the back of her throat as Gohan pushed her up against the wall, shielding her from the monster across from them without taking his eyes away from said monster. The creature slurped in a ragged breath and advanced on them, baring his teeth and narrowing filmy eyes. Gohan gulped and hurled the ki ball directly at the thing that came from ALL of his childhood nightmares.

Bird shrieked something as the ki ball exploded into bright, hot light. The monster screamed wetly in a sick, slurping way, but as the darkness returned, they both saw the creature stagger forward, patches of its hide blown away to reveal cold hard metal beneath the oozing, jagged rivers of blood seeping from the wound.

"Come on!" Bird screamed in his ear and yanked roughly on his arms. "We have to go!"

"Where?" Gohan shouted back, following behind the smaller girl. Bird ignored him and instead jerked him straight for the wall beneath the lamp. She flung her hand out and slapped the lamp before hurling them both—the teddy clenched tightly in her arm—into the black rock of the wall.

Or through it rather, as Gohan discovered when they landed roughly on a cold stone floor. He flipped himself up and over, preparing for another attack, but found himself facing a wall. He glanced back at Bird, noting happily the runners of archaic lights that crowned the room.

"Okay, what just happened?" He asked, confusion covering his expression. Bird glanced up at him, suddenly shocked as well at their current position.

"I—I'm not totally sure," she whispered. She looked down at the teddy bear in her arms. "I was smaller then. The Pet used to scare me." Gohan moved closer to her and knelt down beside her.

"The Pet?" He repeated. She swallowed and stared at the floor, but her eyes were not seeing the hard rock.

"I was…here when I was a child. That thing—he called it The Pet; he created it to defend the outer ring," her words seemed to flow together as Gohan crouched beside her.

"He? Who's 'he,' Bird?" The blond girl brought her eyes up to Gohan's slowly. He was pained to recognize the pain in the deep pools.

"Dr. Gero," she whispered. Gohan gasped coldly as ice filled his veins. With a shudder, Bird closed her eyes and covered her face with a shaky hand. "It's gone again."

They sat there for a moment as the sound of the creature snorting and slithering on the other side of the wall sent horrible shudders through them both. With a deep breath, Gohan glanced around them for the first time and realized they were in a single, solid rock room that seemed to be chiseled from the very stone. Off to Gohan's right was a shadowed corridor, but nothing else.

"Well," he said as he stood and offered her a hand up. "Only one way to go."

Bird looked at him with a swell of tears in her eyes, but the other teenager quickly smiled at her and eased some of the desperation within her heart. Silently, she brushed away the moisture at her blue eyes and—still clutching tightly to the ragged lovey—accepted Gohan's hand. The demi-Saiyajin tilted his head toward the lone tunnel leading—without a doubt—deeper into the belly of Dr. Gero's House of Horrors, and drew the smaller android girl up beside him, tucking her hand neatly into his.

Without a backwards glance at the hidden door, Gohan and Bird moved into the tunnel, both relieved that the lights continued on farther down. The walls were still moist and made of solid stone, but the corridor itself was not as wide, causing Gohan to feel slightly claustrophobic.

The whirring sound was their first hint that something was different, but as the tunnel emptied into a large, circular cavern, bright lights blossomed near the ceiling all around the room, startling the two. Situated in the very center of the room was a massive computer that purred almost like a giant cat, a low hum that nearly vibrated the loose stones on the floor.

"Yes!" Gohan exclaimed, startling Bird. He hurried to the hulking equipment and ran his fingers gently over the thick metal casing. "I was hoping that he would have left his computer here intact!"

"This is what you wanted?" Bird asked crisply. Gohan nodded.

"We might be able to get more information off of this one than the others," Gohan explained.

"Why is that?" Bird asked. Gohan crouched down to investigate the wires beneath.

"Because this one was more hidden, more protected; if he felt safer with it here and that…_thing_ out there roaming the outer tunnels, maybe he didn't put so many blocks on it."

"Do you know how to get past these...blocks?" She asked quietly, her words formal and uncomfortable. Gohan made a face.

"No…me and computers aren't that great together," he admitted. "But I can get it to Bulma and she can take it from there."

"You are excited to find this, yes?" Bird asked. Gohan tilted his head to glance at her with an odd expression.

"Bird, do you not understand? This computer might be able to tell us everything you want to know about _who_ you're looking for!" Bird's expression changed suddenly, her eyebrows dropping and her blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"_You_ could tell me _plenty_," she snapped. Gohan twisted around quickly to stand up and fell on his rear instead, his mouth dropping into a perfect o.

"What?" Bird regarded him coolly, her expressions more natural now.

"You have had knowledge of something that you have kept away from me," she stated, reverting back to her stiff way of speaking. Gohan opened his mouth but quickly shut it again. Instead, he glanced at the walls around them and took a deep breath before he turned his gaze back to the girl.

"You're right," he whispered. "I haven't told you." The girl's expression sagged with the words.

"Why?" She asked quietly. Gohan bit his lip and shrugged, not really sure himself why he kept Bird's parentage from her.

"I am so happy being home," she whispered. "I love Goten, Chichi, Goku, and you. You were my first friend and you have all given me a home. I will not turn away and forget that."

Gohan glanced at her with a smile.

"You knew about Eighteen then?" Bird shook her head.

"Not until this morning: you were very open." Gohan shook his head and laughed.

"You really are related to Eighteen! You and Marron do the same stuff!" Bird seemed to blink, not quite taking that in fully.

Suddenly, a horrendous roar echoed into the cavern, painfully bouncing off of the walls and attacking the two with the sheer force of it. Gohan bolted upright and appeared beside Bird in a heartbeat, his eyes wide and his senses on alert. _Like they should have been from the beginning_, he thought angrily at himself.

A jagged, grating crash came from the direction that they had come from, and quickly after that, the horrific slithering and choking sound entered the domed room to bounce off of the walls around them.

"Oh hell," Gohan murmured, casting around them for a way out. He gripped both of Bird's upper arms in his hands and physically picked her up and lifted her into the air, flying her to the very tippy top of the domed room. Below them, the wretched beast skulked into the room, his cloudy eyes rolling around the room in search of the two teenagers, while the tube protruding from his neck created clicking and sucking noises. Gohan felt bile rise as the ghastly creature swung its massive head from side to side, seemingly unable to control the wide arc.

A piece of Gohan's heart ached for the creature. In his mind he thought of _Frankenstein_ and the depth of despair one must be in to desecrate the sanctity of life—or the right of the living to be left alone in death. But he felt no sorrow for Dr. Gero. He despised him and wished him no goodness in the deepest darkest level of hell that the good Dr must certainly, currently reside.

"Gohan," Bird whispered, her voice tremulous. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm thinking about it," he replied. He pulled her closer to his chest, trying to remain silent as they watched the beast below trying to locate them with his sad, jerking muscles. A rumble beyond the room caught Gohan's attention and in response, he stretched his awareness wider, trying to sense something.

"What was that?" Bird asked quietly.

"I don't know," Gohan admitted. "I can't sense anything past the walls." Suddenly, an idea came at him. The entrance where he and Bird came through was behind the beast. The smaller anteroom that he had first found himself in was beyond that down the tunnel. _If I can just get this thing back there, maybe I could collapse some of the rock into the room and block it off._

"Bird," he whispered. "I have an idea." The girl looked at him, her pale eyebrows drawn down over her fearful eyes. He gestured to the opening with his head.

"I think I can get that thing to follow me back to the smaller room," he said.

"And then what? Get yourself hurt?" Her voice was outright terrified. Gohan smiled easily and shook his head.

"No, Bird, maybe I can trap it in the smaller room."

"Or trap yourself in there with it?"

"I won't get hurt, Bird, don't worry. I can do this," he insisted.

"What's wrong with trying to collapse this room?" She asked. "Then we could go back down the Outer Ring and get out of here." Her words were accompanied by a shudder to her thin shoulders. She glanced down at the beast. Gohan looked at it as well, his mind still working.

"No," he whispered. "I might damage the computer." Another loud crunch from beyond the wall shook the room, an almost visible vibration trembling through the air. Gohan swallowed.

"I've got to try," he whispered in her ear as he lowered her slowly to the ground. As their feet touched down, he pushed her back into a corner before he went straight for the monster.

"Hey!" he shouted. The creature swung toward him quicker than Gohan expected, barely missing the teenager's flesh with needle-sharp claws. _Oh crap! That was close! Too bad I can't just blow the whole thing up! If it weren't for the worry of mass destruction, I'd just blow that thing and the whole rock to bits!_ Another faraway explosion rocked the lab, knocking Gohan off balance. He lifted into the air and charged a ki ball, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

With the glowing ball cradled in his palms, Gohan thrust his hands out, shouting as the charged ki ball connected against the side of the creature's neck with a shuddering explosion. The monster swung away with a vicious scream of rage, but the teenager didn't stop there. Next, he circled around the thrashing beast and shot himself down to plant his feet firmly in the beast's hind end and jumped off, forcing his ki down onto the beast to catapult himself into the air. The extreme force shoved the beast off balance with another strangled, slurping scream.

Gohan landed a few feet away and looked at the angry beast as it stood back up, the flesh on his neck and hind end jaggedly torn away to reveal the horror of the cold steel beneath. The mottled brown and rust fur hung in ratted mounds here and there where Gohan had hit it.

The beast raised his head and caught Gohan in its sights, screaming wetly with rage as it charged toward the teen. With a tight, grim smile, Gohan turned and fled toward the corridor, watching behind him to make sure that the creature was on his trail. Trepidation filled Gohan's being, but he roughly shoved it down to focus on the matter at hand.

A massive explosion screamed into the lab, knocking Gohan to his feet as well as the beast and Bird. Momentarily confused, Gohan landed hard on his rear before he shoved away from the ground and launched himself to Bird as falling rocks showered down from above them.

Bird screamed, her eyes wide and focused beyond Gohan's right shoulders. Too late, Gohan realized that the beast had recovered faster than he had and was coming after him, razor sharp claws extended. In a flash, jagged, burning pain ripped across Gohan's back, searing through his consciousness until a scream erupted from his throat. With his momentum, he smacked into Bird, pinning her between the wall and his body, shielding her from both the falling debris and the ravaging monster.

The creature shrieked again, its fury obvious in the way that it pounced on the teenager, its claws and fangs wickedly dangerous. Gohan forced his ki out behind him, trying to shield Bird from most of the ragged energy as the monster was blown backwards. It recovered quickly, and made to pounce but before it could do that, something dropped down into the lab from the opening above them, tackling the creature.

Through a darkening haze, Gohan watched on as a golden figure brought his arm back and sliced quickly down in an arc, effectively severing the monster's head. Bird cried out as vivid red blood gushed from the severed head as well as the nub left of its neck. The creature's limbs flinched and jerked for a few more moments before it finally seemed to realize that it was dead and lay still. The lifeblood draining from the creature into several darkening puddles as his father jumped away from the lifeless creature and strode quickly over to Gohan.

Gohan picked Bird up off of the floor and turned, trembling to look at the deceased creature. And the rubble of metal and rocks that was all that was left of Dr. Gero's mega computer. Rage that he hadn't felt in a long time surged through his system at the sight of the destroyed link to Bird's past.

"Gohan, Bird, are you ok?" Goku asked as he approached, his expression tight, but relieved.

"We were _fine_," Gohan snapped. He brushed past his father and quickly moved to the computer in the middle of the room.

"Hey, Gohan, you okay, kid?" Krillin asked as he dropped into the lab. Gohan glanced up to see Piccolo on the rim, surveying the damage and him.

With gentle fingers, Gohan poked about at the massive remains of the computer, his lips pressed together in frustration at the silence from the twisted components. _Dang it_, he thought ruefully to himself. _This will be getting me nowhere_.

"Gohan?" Bird's voice was low and soothing from where she stood. Goku stood between them, a concerned edge to his expression. Gohan glanced at Bird and shook his head.

"There's not going to be much information gathered from here," he said bitterly, still ignoring the other three warriors. "This was destroyed when Dad crashed the ceiling to _save_ us."

"Gohan, what are you doing here?" Goku asked, his tone off. Gohan glanced at him.

"Trying to figure out about Bird's past," he said, his rage slowly ebbing to exhaustion. Goku glanced at the hulking chunk of metal in the center of the room.

"What's that?"

"And where are we?" Krillin asked quickly, eyeing the carcass of the still bleeding creature. Gohan glanced toward him, but shuddered at the lifeless body of the nightmarish creature, his eyes skirting the body.

"This is—_was—_a computer. This was Dr. Gero's lab and I had hoped to find something useful, but—" he randomly gestured with his hand at the current devastation as a thriving hunger slid into his mind, making sweat appear on his forehead.

"Gohan," Goku said from behind him. "You're back." A sharp tinge began on the flesh on his back, drawing attention to the memory of the monster's claws as they ripped across his back. Krillin crept closer and inspected his back as Goku gently touched the ribbons of material across his son's back.

"Wow, Gohan, it got you good," Krillin offered.

"I don't think it will be more than a scratch here in just a couple of hours," Goku replied. Piccolo hopped down into the rubble to join them as Gohan moved closer to what was left of the computer again.

"Oh well," Gohan whispered. He rubbed his forehead, smearing dirt mixed with the sweat. A hand on his shoulder distracted him from his frustrations.

"Gohan, are you okay?" Gohan turned and looked at his father with a frown.

"I'm fine," he repeated shortly, glancing past his father to where Bird stood. She was looking at a smaller box among the rubble of the crashed computer. "Bird, are you okay?"

She glanced up at him with an odd frown. "I'm fine, but isn't there something we could take back to Bulma?" Gohan moved over to her, biting his lip. He glanced up at Krillin as a thought occurred to him.

"Do you have a com?" Krillin seemed surprised for a moment before he fiddled with his sash, pulling a thin rectangular metallic disk from his pocket. Without a question, he handed it over to the teenager.

"What do you need a com for?" Piccolo asked.

"No idea," Goku murmured. Gohan ignored the conversation going on around him as he punched in the number for Capsule Corporation, specifically, Bulma Briefs.

"What?" His father's friend snapped as her face appeared within the small screen. Her eyes were nearly dilated; obviously, she had been in the middle of some project or another.

"Bulma, it's Gohan. I found that lab, Bulma, but it was destroyed when Dad crashed through the ceiling. There was a massive computer in here, but it was destroyed, too; can you tell me what to look for that I could bring to you?"

"Gohan," Bulma began, "_Where_ are you?" Gohan sighed.

"I'm at that lab that you found in Sixteen's memories," he replied. There was a pause on the other side of the line as Bulma blinked, her eyes becoming more focused.

"Wow, good work, Kiddo!" Gohan brushed aside the praise and focused on the matter at hand.

"Bulma, what do I need to look for?" Bulma chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, Gohan. Did you say your Dad was there?" She asked. Gohan hesitated.

"Yes," he answered honestly. Goku shifted closer to him, his dark eyes pinned on his son, an obscure expression on his face. For the first time, Gohan realized that Goku's normally pleasant countenance was missing and replaced by a tense, uneasy expression.

"Good; let me talk to him," she ordered in her 'scientist' voice. Gohan handed the com to his father as Bird came up behind him. She touched his arm lightly with her fingertip, drawing the other teenager's gaze.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice low and only for his ears. Stiffly, he nodded his head, eyeing her. She had been dressed in pale blue, thin linen pants and an overlapped, deep purple tunic that crossed over her chest when they had left the house, but sometime during their excursion, a ragged hole had appeared in the right knee of her pants, a tear on the left hip, and dirt had appeared.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Yup!" Goku said from behind them. Gohan turned just in time to see his father toss Krillin his com and jab the center of his forehead with his two pointer fingers, disappearing within the next blink.

"Where was he going?" Gohan asked the bald monk. Krillin shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Piccolo who had been moving along the parameter of the lab. Before Gohan could open his mouth again, his father had returned with one Bulma Briefs in his arms. The blue hair scientist looked thrilled.

"Great job, Gohan!" She called as she stood away from Goku and nearly skipped toward the twisted pile of junk in the center of the room where Gohan and Bird still stood.

"So, where's the computer?" She asked him. Gohan grit his teeth and jerked his hand in the direction of the pile at his feet, frustrated anger beginning in the pit of his stomach again. Bulma eyed the destruction with immediate distaste.

"Did you have to kill it?" she asked, bending over to examine a few pieces closer.

"I didn't kill it. Dad did when he came to save us, even though we did not need to be saved," Gohan said shortly. Piccolo brushed against his thoughts, drawing his anger up short. The teenager glanced at his friend.

_**Be easy, Kid,**_ he rebuked. _**You're in trouble again anyway, so you might not want to push too much on your dad right now. **_ Gohan scowled.

_**What? I didn't do anything!**_ Piccolo made the equivalent of an 'hm,' before he lifted up to the rim of the blasted lab and then disappeared into the sky beyond, leaving one last thought for the teenager to consider:

_**Come see me when your dad's done with you.**_ That thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Well, you're just so lucky that I am who I am," Bulma said easily, oblivious to the tension in the teenager. Goku moved over to Gohan, eyeing Bulma. "Ah!" The scientist exclaimed, making Bird jump.

"This, I think, will work fine for what we need," she said, raising and pointing to a large box beneath a sheet of dusty metal. "That is the brain, Gohan. You can tell mostly because of what lines are fed into it; see that main one, there?"

"Uh, yes," Gohan replied. He moved forward to shift the sheet metal off so that they could reach the hard drive. Bulma unplugged the various cords attached and stood up, triumphantly cradling the component in her arms. It was larger than what Gohan thought it might be. He dropped the sheet metal and tilted his head closer to Bulma.

"There now," she said, pleased with herself. "We can get this back to Capsule Corporation and I can get to work on it!" Gleefully, she turned to Gohan, her large blue eyes bright and happy.

"What do you say, Gohan? Want to come learn more about computers? Maybe this time you can refrain from destroying it!" She grinned, drawing a slight smile from the teenager.

"That's sounds great, Bulma, but can Bird come, too?" Bulma nodded her head. Goku shifted beside Gohan.

"I'll take you back home, then," he offered quietly, his tone off. Again, Gohan glanced at his father, surprised when he found Goku looking at him. The older Saiyajin gestured that he come closer; Gohan acquiesced, laying a hand on his father's broad shoulder. Bulma unconsciously curled her body against Goku, still cradling the hard drive against her stomach. Goku reached out his hand for Bird's as Krillin settled his own against Goku's shoulder.

In one swift inhalation, the quintet was at Capsule Corporation, specifically in Bulma's office. The blue haired scientist stepped away, focused solely on the dirty, dinged black box in her arms.

"Gohan, grab that box there and come over here," she ordered, flapping her hand in the direction of a stack of boxes beside the door and ignoring everyone else. Goku moved sedately over to the wall, pressing his back against it while Krillin settled into the lumpy couch, intelligent enough to recognize that Bulma would squash him if he were in the way.

"This one?" Gohan asked, settling the smallest box on the work table beside the hard drive that Bulma had saved. The woman shook her head.

"No, the metal box there; the actual computer," she clarified. Gohan scratched his head and retrieved the computer from the floor beside the couch and set it on the table. Oblivious to her audience, Bulma quickly dismantled the necessary parts of the computer to attach the hard drive to it, mumbling to herself as she worked. Gohan stood beside her and watched, surprised when he could actually talk himself through what she was doing and why.

"There," Bulma exclaimed, finally stepping away from the computer and plugging it into the power supply before she pinned Gohan with a happy smile. Bird moved closer to Gohan, a first aid kit in her hands. Her friend favored her with a smile and allowed her to touch his back

"You do the honors?" She asked, tilting her head to the power button on the tower.

"Sure," Gohan shrugged and stepped over to push his finger into the round button, his heart somewhere near his throat as the gentle whirr of the machine began and the screen hanging on the wall blinked into life. Bulma pulled out the keyboard and keyed in some characters that Gohan was not quite fast enough to catch, but the screen blinked black with lettering across it before it shifted to what appeared to be the main screen. Bulma mumbled to herself again, fully focused on her task.

"There," she muttered with a smirk. "Arrogant prick didn't have any safe guards." On the screen were several folders, one of which was marked Bird. Krillin gasped as a picture of Eighteen appeared as the folder for a file tagged Eighteen. There were others titled Seventeen, Sixteen, Twenty, Fifteen, Son Goku, SpyBots, and every single one of the Z Warriors, including one tagged Saiyajin. There were also several files tagged with unusual, odd names such as: Maja Village, Location, Gatherings, and Schematics.

"Whoa," Bulma muttered. Silently, Gohan agreed. He twisted around and glanced at Bird as she brushed a cotton swab against the cuts across his back and met his eyes. Fear lurked in the grey depths, but she turned her attention back to his wounds and finished cleaning them out, replacing the cap on the bottle of antiseptic when she was done.

"Are you ready, Bird?" Bulma asked. Swallowing, Bird nodded her head and without another word, the blue haired woman double tapped the folder with the girl's name. Several items popped up, a document titled Observations, several videos and pictures, and another folder tagged History.

"Where to now," Bulma asked. Gohan and Bird shared a glance.

"History," both teenagers replied. Once the file was opened, they realized it was another document, but along with being written, Dr. Gero's voice read it. It began:

00.00.01

"_The girl appeared outside my door during a blinding snowstorm. The Pet alerted me to her presence first, but upon consulting the perimeter cameras, I found her leaned against the wall, huddled under a thin cloak. Curious, I immediately drew her into my lab and was going to subdue her with a tranquilizer, when I noticed the roundness of her stomach and the dilated quality to her eyes: she was not only pregnant, she was in labor. She could not have been more than 16, hardly old enough to be with child, but most assuredly not old enough to be wandering amidst the storm raging outside._

_Briefly, I considered turning her back out into the storm and allowing whatever happened to happen without my assistance, but the girl's pleas were enough to sate me. Instead, I allowed her to stay, delivering the child. A girl. I gave the child over to Sixteen to care for as I finished with her mother. The girl was beyond exhausted and had lost much blood, but as I watched the amazing light behind her eyes begin to fade unto death, a thought struck me. _

_But for The Pet, I had never used fully grown, organic materials for my experiments. With this in mind, I immediately stripped her and placed her into one of my recently emptied holding tanks, filling it with the amniotic substance. _

_To watch as the girl's eyes filled with such terror as the liquid covered her head, the remaining light in her eyes dimming to nothingness as her beautiful body jolted with carelessness was truly something to behold. The monitors flat lined as the girl's heartbeat stopped and her eyes lost all focus, but I engaged the electrical current and sent a shockwave through the dome. Her eyes sprang open, as I knew they would and she began to panic, her expression stark and terror filled. It was truly wonderful, watching as the girl finally stopped, hanging within the amniotic substance and watched me as the liquid went to work repairing the damage that the birth had done to her._

_From there I will leave her study to the file of her own (ref: Eighteen). Now I will turn my attentions to remembering the child. I had handed her off to Sixteen as I began on her mother, but once the mother's transformation had begun, I turned my attentions to the infant. I realized that although the mother's already nearly grown frame would take some work, I could do nearly anything to the child…she was a blank slate for me to begin work on. _

_I began with implanting an amniotic modulator beside her heart. I worried she would not survive the procedure, but was most pleased when she came through it. I wanted her to be able to heal faster in case the other surgeries were not as successful. Of course, just as soon as she was decently recovered from the first, I implanted chips behind her eyes and ears to give her supper human sight and hearing. _

_00.00.02_

_Sixteen has grown increasingly difficult in regard to 01's procedures and tests. She is now six months old and he has cared for her from the beginning. Her mother's procedures are coming along nicely and once I am finished with her, she will be truly an amazing feat of science! _

_The addition of her brother soon after the storm ended was truly a surprise. Their notes are located in their own files (Eighteen and Seventeen)._

_Back to the issue with Sixteen, however. He refuses to allow me anymore access to the child for procedures, although he will allow me to test her abilities. Her hearing and sight has improved and due to the addition of the amniotic modulator, her healing is fully complete. If she is cut, she heals almost as quickly as that cursed Goku, but without a device to control her neuro-impulses, there will be no way to program her for her mission. _

_Size and growth is on the level of any other infant her age, if a bit small. Not sure if that has to do with the modulator, the surgeries or if perhaps it is a genetic issue. Her mother is of a normal stature, but it could have come from another genetic link. Perhaps her father?_

_I have done research on all of the small towns near here, but none have reported a missing girl and I have found nothing at all about the girl or who her family could have been. Or the father of her child. _

_00.00.03_

_It has been four years since Eighteen arrived with her unborn child._

_Sixteen has become adamant that I will not touch the child any longer. Her mother remembers nothing of her, but Sixteen will not allow me to have any dealings with her. He has given her a name: Bird. I have tried several times to take her away, and he has thwarted me each time! He refuses to allow me any leeway with her, codling and speaking to her as if she were his own. In a way I should be proud, I suppose, that my creation has the ability to attach to an organic being beyond my design, but I am not. Sixteen has become willfully offensive when it comes to the girl. _

_I will soon try to reprogram Sixteen._

_00.00.03_

_Sixteen has stolen the girl! He has hidden her somewhere that I cannot find. I made the mistake of trying to crash into his memory banks, to discover that he had armed his memory boards to short circuit so that the girl's location is lost to me! His memory board rebooted, but any memory of the girl has been erased. Wretched creature has hidden my crowning achievement from me! _

Silence reigned in the office as Dr. Gero's last words rang out. Gohan had forced Bird to sit down on the couch and draped an arm along her shoulders from his spot on the arm of the couch. The girl's entire frame shook, but her expression was forced calm.

The same could not be said for Krillin, who glanced back and forth between the computer and Bird with his mouth agape. Gohan spared him a glance, but ignored him in favor of Bird.

"Are you okay?" He asked his friend, concern edging his tone. Bird simply nodded.

"Can we go home?" She whispered to him. It was Gohan's turn to nod, but Krillin interrupted him.

"What?" The monk exclaimed, jumping up and looking at Gohan as if he had lost his mind. "_Bird is my wife's daughter_! Don't you think she should have a say?"

"Yes," Gohan murmured, "but Bird wants to go home for right now." Krillin's expression turned from surprise to fury in nearly a blink.

"Gohan, I have known you for years, but this girl is Eighteen's _daughter_ and my wife deserves to know that she exists whether it's something you want right now or not!"

"Krillin," Bulma began. Goku still stood beside the wall, a frown on his face as he watched the happenings. "We have known—"

"_Bulma_," Gohan's desperate voice interrupted her, his expression pleading, but the scientist shook her head at the teenager. "Krillin is _right_, Gohan; Eighteen needs to know and I should have insisted you tell them when we found out." The bald man turned narrowed eyes on Gohan.

"'When we found out'? Exactly how long have you known that she was Eighteen's daughter?" He demanded. Gohan felt heat begin to build in his face as Krillin's anger blossomed. He shifted uncomfortably and stood, feeling threatened where he sat.

"Since Marron was in the hospital," he admitted quietly. Krillin's eyes widened, giving him a comical, bug-eyed look that would have made Gohan chuckle, but before he could register what had happened, Krillin's arm moved and blazing lights flashed across Gohan's sight and a sting bit into his cheek. Krillin had slapped him and then followed it up with a furious stance that warned Gohan to back down.

"You have known for all this time and you've said nothing to us?" Surprised, Gohan glanced as his father, whose tone was shocked anger.

"I didn't know what else to do!" The teenager said, defending himself. Bulma stood up and moved in between Gohan and the two men.

"I also knew about it, guys, and I said nothing; the fault is mine as well," she said, tilting her gaze to stare down her two friends. Krillin's expression had lost some of its fire, replaced by outright confused hurt.

"Why, Bulma?" He asked. The scientist pursed her lips together, but Gohan answered for her.

"Because I asked her not to tell yet," he admitted, feeling the familiar weight of guilt crash onto his shoulders. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest at Krillin's expression, but his father's was even worse. Son Goku was _angry_. Gohan sighed and looked at the floor, wondering how it was that he could stir his father's anger so often when it took so much to do so.

"Please," Bird whispered. "I just want to go _home_." She turned the full force of her blue eyes on to Krillin. "Please, please, just let me go home." Krillin seemed to flounder for a moment, but he wilted and nodded his head.

"Okay, we'll figure this out later," he murmured. But he pinned Gohan with a firm look. "You and I will talk about this later, Kid. And I am going to tell Eighteen anyway."

Gohan nodded, suddenly tired. He wanted to apologize to the monk, but he didn't think that Krillin would acknowledge it in his current frame of mind anyway, so he merely bit his lip as he watched his friend walk out of the door to the office. He turned back to Bulma, who was sharing a look with his father.

"Bulma," he started, "I'm sorry I put you into that position." Bulma frowned and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, Gohan, I should have insisted you tell everyone, but I understood why you wanted to wait." She smiled. "Besides, you are in the hot seat now, not me." Gohan dropped his head with a groan as the woman chuckled and powered down the computer to leave the office, her voice drifting back to his ears. "Come back and see me whenever you're not dead anymore."

He took a deep breath and glanced up at Goku, but his father was looking at the blond girl on the couch, not him. Bird looked exhausted, dirty, and her clothes were still ragged and Gohan felt another wave a guilt sweep across him. It was his entire fault.

"Let's get home," his father murmured, reaching for both children. He curled Bird protectively in the crook of his arm and gripped Gohan's wrist in the hand of the same arm before he touched his fingers gently to his head again.

Bleary, Gohan stumbled a little as the grassy, uneven ground of his yard appeared beneath his feet, but his father's grip remained strong, keeping him up right. Bird sighed and began to move away from Goku, her arms crossed over her ribs as she walked to the house. Gohan followed her, feeling a yawning, dangerous need crawl up his spine and start his limbs to shaking. His mouth felt drier the closer he got to the house, but by the time he walked through the door, he was under some semblance of calm.

Chichi was sitting in the wooden rocking chair in the living room with Goten—fully passed out—cradled in her arms. She looked up and smiled at them, but her smile faltered as she met her husband's gaze. Quickly, she eyed the two teenagers in surprise, taking in both of their ragged clothing.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice suitably firm and surprised even though it was low to keep from waking the child in her arms. Goten stirred anyways, shooting upright in his mother's lap and twisting so suddenly to see the trio by the door that he would have fallen had Chichi not grabbed him.

"You home!" He shrieked, hurling himself at his brother, who caught him on instinct. Goten wrapped his arms around his brother's neck, a familial grin on his face until he registered the state of disarray both of the teenagers were in.

"What wrong?" He asked, worry edging into the dark orbs. Gohan swallowed; the ache in his chest burning brightly at the unusual emotion in his brother's eyes. Why was it that he constantly screwed up? Even meaning well he seemed unable to keep from messing _everything_ up. Gohan sighed.

"Hey little guy," Goku said softly. "Come here." Goku plucked the child from Gohan's arms, not looking at his eldest. "Go to your room, Gohan."

Chichi had moved closer to the two teenagers, alarm on her face, but glanced up sharply at Goku's quiet order. Gohan winced.

"Dad, will you at least hear me out?" He asked quietly, keeping any emotion from his voice. He looked at his father and the little boy in Goku's arms. Goten, for his part, had fisted his hands into Goku's red gi, the worry in his eyes bothering Gohan way more than his father's obscure attitude.

"Not right now, Gohan," he answered. Goku sighed and looked at Bird, his own dark eyes overflowing with something unnamed. "Go to your room, Gohan," Goku murmured.

"I don't have a room, remember?" The teenager replied dryly. He was tired, sore and his back prickled faintly. He knew he was in trouble—now on top of whatever he was in trouble for earlier—and he wanted a shower; he figured Goku would get around to chewing him out later, but for right now he would just settle for not stinking like a sweaty teenager.

"You may go to Goten's room, Gohan," Goku said, his tone frustrated; Chichi remained silent, watching them with a lost expression on her face. Feeling distinctly irritated, Gohan took one step toward the hallway.

"May I have a shower, at least?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his tone respectful. Goku nodded and thankful, the teenager turned for his brother's room where he collected a change of clothes before he dashed to the bathroom, locking the door in relief.

_What the heck did I do now?_ He thought to himself. He shook his head and thumped his forehead with the palm of his hand as he moved to turn on the shower. Living where they did, it sometimes took a bit of time for the shower to fully heat up, and he wanted a _hot_ shower, to wash away any of the death and grime that clung to his skin and clothes. Weary and more than a little confused, he stripped his clothes, grimacing as the torn cloth brushed across his damaged back.

The alarming bloodlust flared to life within him, drying out his mouth and sending him to his knees with trembling. He leaned forward to rest the palms of both of his hands on the cold floor, trying to calm the frightening desire that pulled heavily on him. His heart pounded, filling his ears with each powerful thud.

Weakly, he pushed to his feet, not surprised that the water had grown hot enough to bring a thin layer of fog to the mirror. He felt clammy and wasn't positive whether or not it was due to the steamy bathroom or the desperate knot that had appeared in his stomach.

He pushed back the shower curtain and stepped under the spray, not bothering to turn it down, instead allowing the scalding water to burn its way from his head down to his toes. He hissed as it rolled down his back, reaching the open abrasions there and stinging in rapid fire. He held his breath at the sharp twinge, waiting for the pain to subside and was surprised to find that the knot in his stomach had unraveled and his shakes had mostly disappeared. With a frown he tapped the knob on the faucet, turning down the heat of the water to a more comfortable level as he considered the sudden absence of bloodlust.

_Of course, nothing in my life is ever easy, so why would that be any different?_ He shook his head as he reached for shampoo to soap up his hair, trying to dislodge the horrible niggling knowledge in the back of his mind that told him that his 'habit' was not done with him yet.

_Thank you for reviewing and since this is a new year (almost) I can announce that I have it all written and will be posting them one right after the other!_

_Have a great New Years!_

_-November_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"No appeal on the docket today just my own sin"

My Own Prison- Creed

Goten's room was next to where Gohan's was, but closer to his parent's room and his window was lower, closer to the floor; which is where Gohan sat with his arms folded on the window sill, his chin rested on his arms, and stared beyond to the thick line of trees that ringed their small mountain home. Gohan was calmer now, his pulse down to nearly asleep since he had returned from his shower, and now all he needed was plenty of food and then sleep and he would be set for the evening.

The sudden thought of sleep brought his dark eyes open widen as he jerked his head up from where he had it rested. Fear edged into him at the mere thought of Nightmare Goku's cold expression. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest, hunching his shoulders to ease the chill there.

The previous night he had allowed Goku to replace the Energy Block, but he had not slept much that night, instead he had lain awake and watched his brother's chest rise and fall. Granted, his brother's calm, light snore was enough to lull him into calmness; it was just not enough to sink him into dreamless sleep. Nevertheless, he had fallen asleep, only to jerk to wakefulness with his hair plastered against his sweaty face and a cry strangling him. His heart had been pounding from beneath his ribs, but that in itself was a comfort considering Nightmare Goku had tried to rip it out of him.

Gohan blew his bangs off of his face and rubbed his nose. Lamely trying to make the vestiges of the horrifying nightmare disappear, he cast his gaze around the room where it landed on a strange heap of polished wood. With a frown, the teenager looked more fully at the misshapen thing, trying to figure out what it was, some familiarity to the curved back jogging something in his memories. Finally, he stood and stepped over to it, reaching out to run a gentle finger along the thickest piece of wood. Realization dawned on him just as his father pushed into the room: it was the little rocking chair that Goku had crafted for him years ago. At one point, the tiny rocker had been settled next to his mother's in the living room, but the evidence of its pathetic end was there in a crumpled heap on the floor in his little brother's room.

"Gohan?" Goku said from the door. Gohan turned his back on the wreckage and moved back to the window, his heart a little heavy at the ruined bits of a childhood that once was. Goku walked fully into the room and shut the door, eyeing the broken rocking chair.

"You're mother said that it had been broken, I just haven't had the chance to fix it yet," he said softly. Gohan sat back down on the floor beside the window and faced Goku as the man settled on the bed across from him. "Come here."

Gohan scooted closer to his father, but remained on the floor. Goku leaned forward and turned him around with a hand on either bicep until Gohan's back faced him. Curious, the teenager blinked at him over his shoulder, bringing a smile to the older Saiyajin's face.

"Let me see your back," Goku chuckled, patting the bag beside him on the bed. Gohan shifted out of the soft t-shirt he had chosen, leaving him in the loose pajama bottoms. His back felt better after the shower, but it was beginning to itch, a sure sign that it would be nothing but raised, red scratches by morning.

"You're making a habit of this," his father murmured. The teenager stiffened at the accusation, but then forced himself to relax as Goku began patting the lines on his back with antiseptic. They were both quiet as he worked, silence prevailing in the small room.

"Gohan," his father began, breaking the quiet as he tossed the cotton ball in the trash and put the antiseptic back in the bag. Gohan turned around and returned to his place beside the window, eyeing the elder Saiyajin.

"Why did you run off today?" Goku asked quietly, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.

"I didn't run off," the teenager replied. "You guys were asleep and I wanted to check out the other coordinates that Bulma had found."

"Alone?"

"I wasn't alone, Bird went with me," Gohan returned, annoyance burning up his neck. Goku sighed and rubbed his forehead with the first two fingers of his left hand.

"You know what I mean, son."

"Dad, we were fine—"

"You could have really gotten hurt, Gohan, but what's worse is that you could've gotten Bird hurt!" Gohan took a deep breath, trying to still the frustration growing.

"We were _fine_," he insisted quietly. Goku shook his head, his dark eyes snapping.

"You were not, Gohan." The teenager gritted his teeth and swallowed.

"What is this? I'm big enough to stop Cell four years ago, but I'm not big enough to go out by myself?" Gohan pushed away from the floor and moved to the broken rocking chair, needing something to do.

"Gohan, that was four years ago, and we have already been through this! You are not to go out by yourself, especially not to go hunt down Dr. Gero's _lab_!" Gohan set up the crumpled rocking chair, his hands trembling with anger.

"I can take care of myself," the teenager murmured, feeling prickly and tired.

"Gohan, it's not a question of ability; you were asked not to leave without at least telling one of us where you were going." The legs of the rocking chair were what had shattered and were therefore the cause of why the chair was unable to stand upright. The teenager frowned, realizing that he would have to fashion some new legs to fix the problem. Goku had a storage capsule around here somewhere that had plenty of woodworking tools in it; Gohan was sure that he could fix it that way.

"Son, please don't ignore me," Goku said with a sigh. Gohan blinked and glanced at the window.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said quietly. "You're determined that you're right and nothing I say will make a difference. It doesn't mean that you are right, or that I will follow that order now or ever." Gohan felt his heart race as the words blew right through his mind and out of his mouth without enough thought, so when an iron hand clamped around his bicep and swung him around, he was not surprised. He was surprised by his father's expression of steel.

"Gohan, we have talked about this before," his father said firmly, his voice barely contained. "You are the child, I am the adult and what I say will go. Don't talk to me like that." Gohan glared at his parent, frustrated by the same old argument. He yanked on his arm, not surprised when Goku held fast.

"No one else was figuring anything out about Bird; I had to! I made her a promise and I don't go back on promises!"

"That's fine, Gohan, but there is no harm in talking to me about it! Why didn't you say anything about the lab to me? I would have gone with you, Gohan!" Goku's grip was like concrete wrapped around the teenager's arm as he stared down into Gohan's face.

"Why should I? I'm big enough to go check out a _lab_, Dad! And besides, all you accomplished when you dropped in to save the day was crashing a perfectly good computer!"

"I was saving _you_, Gohan," he growled. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Oh please," the teenager snorted. "You destroy the whole roof, drop it onto the only piece of equipment able to answer the questions about Bird's past, and then sever that _thing's_ neck and claim you were _saving_ me? I don't need you to save me!" Again, he roughly jerked on his arm.

"What about keeping Bird's relationship to Eighteen secret, Gohan? What is your excuse for that?" Gohan swallowed and broke eye contact with the man, instead looking at the wall to his right.

"Gohan, you want to claim innocence, but you're still pulling the same childish, selfish crap that you did whenever I first came back," Goku said softly. Stung, Gohan swung his gaze back to his father's face. Goku's expression was smooth now, edged with a terrible firmness that immediately cramped Gohan's stomach.

"You are still a child, Gohan, remember? It's not up to you to make those decisions, or toy with people's lives and I'm very disappointed in you for doing that! Krillin and Eighteen are our friends." Gohan closed his eyes and grit his teeth, frustrated and uncomfortable with the moment, but forcing his expression to blankness. Goku still had his arm in a grip, his usually happy eyes dark with some emotion and directed at the teenager.

"Gohan," his father said, grasping both of his arms and shaking him suddenly, surprising the teenager into bringing his eyes up to his father's. Goku sighed and dropped his hands, allowing the pads of his fingers to brush down Gohan's skin. "You're tired; go to bed. Goten is staying in our room for the night." Goku turned back to the bag on the bed and slipped the Energy Block from it, turning again toward Gohan.

For his own part, Gohan felt grieved. As he did all those years ago after his hero and father chose death over his family, Gohan felt empty, a yawning, dangerous fear filling him up and satisfying nothing. But he swallowed it, battering it back and down until it obeyed.

"Gohan," Goku murmured, gesturing the teenager closer. Gohan acquiesced and stepped over, bringing his arm up to allow his father to snap the dreaded metal bracelet around his wrist.

"You are grounded, son," Goku said softly. Shocked, Gohan looked up at his father, but the firm expression encouraged no argument. Goku brushed his fingertips against Gohan's cheek and left the room.

DBZ

Acute terror vibrated through every pulsing, living part of Gohan's being. He was somewhere strange, different from anywhere he had ever been. The mountains beyond him were in every direction, closing in on him and the deadened, desert where he stood. Blackened, scarred ground surrounded him, the smell of torched, decimated soil filling his senses and causing bile to crawl up his esophagus. The sky above was overcast and dark with soot and billowing black clouds of heavy smoke.

"Gohan." Startled, he swung around, searching for the voice. In every direction he looked, the same deadened earth invaded.

"Gohan." Again he swung around, looking for whomever it was that had called his name, and this time, he saw the man who had lived in his nightmares: Nightmare Goku. Only it was not Goku, it was the man with the scarred face.

"What?" Gohan asked, not knowing what else to say. Fear evaporated, like dew evaporated from thin blades of grass.

"Gohan, don't forget the Blaque Stone. You _must_ find it before we arrive! You have it, Gohan, you just have to allow it!" The heat intensified around them, stealing Gohan's breath.

"I don't!" The teenager shouted through sudden burning gusts of wind that roared around him, swirled around him in moving circles of blistering air. The man's form began to flicker out of sight.

"You do, Gohan! Don't be afraid, _just do it_!" The roar of the man's words mixed with the roar of the hot gale, claiming the teenager's breath. As the roar thickened, the man disappeared, leaving Gohan totally alone but for the horrifying storm blowing around him, burning his skin with the heat and the bruising quality of the gusts.

"Wait!" He screamed, fear drowning him again. Nightmare Goku appeared, his expression every bit as dangerous and vindictive as ever. Horror billowed up his spine, freezing him where he stood. The man who appeared to be his father but was really the devil incognito lunged for him, death in his eyes. Gohan screamed and crossed his arms before his face, doing all he could think of to avoid the coming horror.

"No," whispered a firm voice. Trembling from head to toe, the teenager opened his eyes and lowered his wrists enough to see. Dark hair and a Saiyajin warrior's armored bodysuit met his eyes. Confused, he dropped his arms to his sides and backed up to see past the body before him. Nightmare Goku stood facing the scarred man, destruction in his face; but he stood still.

"This is your mind, Gohan. You are in control here, not him," the scarred man turned and pinned him with a look that sent shivers down his spine. "Learn how to throw him out and don't be afraid."

"How do I do that?!" Gohan asked, his voice thin with fear. The scarred man smirked.

"You're a smart one, you figure it out," he replied. His eyes were dark and reminded Gohan so very much of his father, but his expression lacked the calming effect.

"And find that Stone, Boy!" With those words, the man slipped out of sight, leaving Gohan with his father's evil twin. The ferocious look on the man's face sent Gohan's heart racing, but before he could be attacked, the teenager closed his eyes, sweat pouring down his spine, and wished himself way. He felt the bruising fingers of his father's evil double-ganger encircle his wrist and crush the bones together, drawing a surprised gasp from within his chest.

"No!" he cried raggedly, fear enveloping him. He pushed away and screamed, his power arcing out away from him, illuminating Nightmare Goku's face….and tumbled straight off of the bed.

_Thump_. His head was bowed forward, curled uncomfortably by the wood floor he had fallen on to; his chin was pressed against his chest, his feet and legs in the air with his brother's light blue sheets tangled about his legs. His stomach rolled nervously for a moment, but as his panicked eyes adjusted to the dim shadows in the room, he realized where he was. With a grunt, he tumbled forward, flipping upright and wearily sitting there on the cool wood floor. Briefly, he wondered what he looked like, sitting on his bottom with his legs straight out in front of him in only pajama bottoms. His black hair was sticking up at all angles away from his head. With a sigh he scrubbed his face ending with his hands digging into his black hair as he flopped backwards.

"Eii!" he gasped as his back made contact with the wood floor. _Is this how life will be?_ He wondered to himself as he tried to ignore the irritation on his back. Part itchy, part sting, partly just painful, he squirmed, trying to ease the discomfort there, but the slight movement just made the damage hurt worse. With a grunt, he rose from the floor and rubbed a hand down his face, feeling exhaustion work into his body. Early morning light filtered into the room, telling him that it was soon to be morning. With a sigh, he pushed to his feet and padded to the bathroom. After his business was taken care of, he drifted to his parents' room, curious if they were awake.

The door was cracked open and through the opening, Gohan could make out the three people lying in the bed in the dim light. Chichi was quiet, her face turned toward the door and Gohan, who saw that her eyes were closed and her shoulder rose and fell in steady rhythm. Her long black hair was tightly braided and rested across her shoulder. Goten was asleep between his parents, his breath coming evenly with a whiffling sound that Gohan knew personally; but Goku was awake and propped up on his right elbow, his head resting on the knuckles of his right hand. The fingers of his left hand were gently and loving trailing along the little boy's cheek and eyebrow, while his eyes were filled with an emotion that Gohan was not sure he could name aptly. _Awe_ came to mind; so, too, did _fascination_.

With an uncomfortable feeling weighing against his chest, he returned to the bathroom and flipped on the water. Gohan stripped off his clothes and turned to glance at his back in the mirror while he waited. Like he had predicted the night before, the damage was raised and red, but closer to healing now than not; and man did it itch! Steam began to curl up in ringlets from the hot water, fogging the bathroom and clinging to the mirror and tiny, high window above the shower.

With a sigh that had everything to do with the state of his existence, he stepped into the shower and rashly stepped beneath the scalding water. He sucked in a breath and watched in morbid fascination as the tanned skin of his left hip turned red within a matter of seconds. Relenting, he turned down the water. Again.

As he was stepping out of the shower with the towel wrapped about his waist, his father knocked on the door before sticking his head in.

"Good morning," he said, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "Did you sleep good?" He opened the door and stepped fully into the bathroom.

"Yes," the teenager replied. Goku reached out and turned him around.

"How's your back?" Gently, his fingertips brushed against the marks on his back and shoulder, sending a shiver down Gohan's spine. He turned around and pulled away.

"Your hands are cold," he accused. Goku laughed, the sound drawing a snort from the demi-Saiyajin.

"I'm working on breakfast, do you want to come help? Your mom and brother are still asleep."

"Has Bird come out of her room yet?" Goku grabbed his own towel from the rack, a funny look on his face.

"She is awake, but asked to be left alone for a while longer; I think she is still upset," he answered. Gohan made a face, determined to talk to her later. Goku threw his towel at the teenager's face, draping the material over his head with a laugh.

"You have water dripping down the side of your face, Gohan; dry off and come make breakfast with me." Goku pulled the door closed with a soft click as Gohan scrubbed at his hair.

DBZ

Three minutes later, Gohan padded into the kitchen in socked feet, feeling clean and content—in direct opposite of what he felt like upon waking. His father stood at the kitchen sink, washing some dishes with his back to the door. Gohan crossed to his father and leaned his right hip against the counter beside him, watching him rinse a plate.

"Do you remember that year in the Time Chamber?" Goku asked, his dark eyes sparkling down at his son. "You almost burned the living quarters down by boiling water." Gohan allowed a smile to lift the corner of his lips. Yes, he remembered how well that had worked…he had doused the draperies eight feet away with boiling hot water and ended up with a nasty burn on his right arm. Gohan shook his head at the memory. His father was not lying to Piccolo and the others when they came out again: they had nearly starved!

"And yet you're cooking right now?" Gohan asked. Goku smiled and nodded his head.

"Yup! I learned how to cook from Bubbles," Goku said. He leaned over to Gohan conspicuously. "But Bubbles has a major love of salt and if you're not careful, he'll get you with the salt; or fat, he loves fat, too!" Gohan couldn't imagine the monkey cooking and doing a great job—not that his father was a much better example. Goku rinsed of his hands and then rubbed at his hands with a hand towel draped over the edge of the sink.

"Will you get that canister there?" He asked, tossing his head in the direction of an old, decorated ceramic canister that Chichi had painted at some point early on in their marriage. Gohan scooted it to the edge of the counter before he cradled it against his chest and followed his father to the counter beside the stove top. Goku set several kitchen utensils on the counter, a simple expression on his face, his eyes large and reflective in the early morning light.

"Two eggs and some of the milk from the icebox, please," he asked of Gohan. The teenager shrugged, curious what his father was making as he retrieved the needed supplies from the icebox and returned them to the smooth counter top beside his father. He frowned as he watched his father combine several different powders and then cracked the eggs into the mixture before adding the milk to the bowl.

"What are you making?" the teenager finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Goku smiled at him.

"You'll just have to wait and see," he said mysteriously. Gohan rolled his eyes and leaned his hip against the counter again, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's something that I learned about while…dead."

"So Bubbles taught you how to do this?" Gohan asked, ignoring his father's pause.

"No, it was a warrior that I met named Jono. He was from far away when he was alive and loved food nearly as much as I do!" Goku smiled and flicked some water from his fingers onto the scorching griddle, pleased when it crackled gently. Fascinated, Gohan watched his father scoop a half cup of the thick mixture and dumped it into the hot flat surface.

"Did he die in battle, too?" The creamy liquid spread wider until it was nearly three inches in diameter, with tiny bubbles beginning to blister the top of it. Goku used the flat spatula to flip it over, revealing a caramel color on the back before adding another scoop of the creamy concoction to the griddle.

"No, he stepped on a nail and it got infected; terrible way to die apparently," he said quietly, his dark eyes on the cook top. Gohan snorted, taken off guard by the story.

"And instead of sparring, you two learned to cook?" Goku had moved two of the delicious smelling flat discs onto a plate next to the griddle and smiled at Gohan's question.

"Something like that," he replied. Gohan found himself fascinated, although he couldn't exactly explain why, but he watched his father cook until all of the creamy liquid was gone. Gohan was lifting a saucer of thick, creamy, sweet smelling syrup off of the burner when Goten padded into the kitchen, his black hair spraying up in every direction and one small fist smashed into in an eye, rubbing away the sleepies.

"Hey, big guy," Goku murmured, turning away from the kitchen sink to scoop Goten off of the floor. He cradled him against his chest and smoothed the rampant black hair, raising his gaze to catch the pale devastation on his elder son's face. Again. However, before he could react, Gohan had turned back to the stove top, and Chichi shuffled into the room, brushing the last lock of her hair behind her should.

"Good morning," she said, stepping up to press a kiss to Goku's lips, and one to Goten's forehead. "Something smells delicious; Gohan, did you cook?"

"No, it was Dad," he replied, accepting a morning kiss on the cheek from his mother. Chichi eyed the griddle, but kept quiet—a feet for her.

"What do you say, big guy, are you hungry?" Gohan asked Goten, turning off the burner on the stove and stepping up to the little boy. Goten nodded, still drowsy.

Breakfast was a subdued occasion. The wonderful smell was that of the flat, soft things called pancakes that Jono had taught Goku to make while dead; Gohan ate an even half dozen all on his own. Chichi seemed to be barely able to function while Goten was beyond exhausted. Bird remained in her room for the morning, and as if sensing that Goku and Gohan needed time, Chichi ordered them out to fully rebuild Gohan's room.

Rebuild they did. It took the morning and half the afternoon, but they finally finished it and were situating the book shelf and newly built desk against the wall when Goku sighed and gently kicked the door shut.

"I am already grounded, Dad, I got that you do not want me going to the bathroom by myself," the teenager griped lightly. "I think I got it, so there's no reason to go hounding it again." Gohan said, his tone aggravated. Goku narrowed his eyes at him a moment.

"Well, then it is a very good thing that I was not going to yell at you," he said calmly. Gohan ignored him, his fingers brushing away some random bits of wood dust. Goku sighed and shook his head.

"Why didn't you tell me about Bird?" Gohan shrugged.

"Because I wasn't sure until after I got the test results."

"And after? Why didn't you ever say anything? You kept it even from Bird, Gohan; why did you do that?"

Gohan stacked books and things on his new bookshelf; most of his books survived the explosion, but there were a few that hadn't and a few that had blackened covers. He sat down on the floor and tried to ignore the way his heart pounded in his ears as he arranged his books into the second to last shelf. His bottom shelf would be for the older of his text books—those text books that he had actually out grown but that he revered as good friends. He placed his Botany book on the shelf last, still trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking. The calm from earlier had deserted him and he desperately wanted it back. Why must everything about him be so difficult and broken right now?

Goku crouched down beside him, his longer fingers linking together. Gohan continued to organize—and reorganize—his various school books onto the shelf.

"Gohan, don't ignore me; tell me why you didn't say anything about Bird. Were you afraid Krillin would be angry? Or maybe I would be angry? I am just trying to understand, Gohan." The teenager lifted one shoulder in a shrug, partly because he didn't know the answer and mostly because he didn't want to talk about it anymore. His father sighed, aggravated.

"Okay. Well, I am going in to Satan City for a while, would you like to go?"

"I wanna go!" Gohan turned to see Goten standing in the doorway of the room, the newly hung door bounced off of the wall and flew back a foot before groaning to a rest. The three year old looked more rested than he had at breakfast, and Gohan wondered shortly how his mother had kept him away for so long. Goku laughed.

"Of course!" Goku said, putting a hand on the little boy's head and mussing his hair affectionately. "I wouldn't leave you behind!" Goten smiled up at him with an identical grin.

Something solid landed in Gohan's stomach and he turned back to the book shelves to hide his expression as a hunger so desperate and fierce he was afraid it would consume him where he sat, tried to crawl its way through his body.

"You okay, Gohan?" Goku tilted his head to the side and eyed the teenager.

"Fine," Gohan gasped. "I'm just…really tired. I think I will stay home and take a nap." Goku narrowed his eyes at his eldest son, but kept quiet.

"Goten why don't you go ask your Mom if it's okay if you go with me to the city?" Goten jumped up and spun around, nearly leaving a dust trail in his wake like those old cartoons that Gohan watched as a small child. He managed to crack a smile at his younger brother's antics, but the expression melted away under his father's gaze.

"Gohan, are you okay? You look pale." Gohan shook his head and tried to still the trembling in his insides and disguise what was happening to him.

"Dad, I am fine, just tired. Yesterday was kind of a bummer, you know? It was just exhausting and I didn't sleep very well." As the words tumbled out, he tried psyching himself into believing that was all that was going on. It was not as scary if all he felt was exhaustion. Goku nodded although Gohan knew that he could never be lucky enough for his father to believe him. Not after everything that had happened.

"Okay. I will tell your mother that you are resting," he said quietly. Gohan stood and turned toward his bed, feeling prickly and not really wanting anyone around right then. Goku lingered in the doorway for a moment, eyeing the teenager as he flopped down on his new bed with his back to the door and the elder Saiyajin.

With a sigh, Goku pulled the door too and walked away, feeling as if all of the progress that they had made was so far away.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"The Scar Is Sinking In."

"It's All Over"- Three Days Grace

The wind pushed hard against the window in his bedroom, bringing Gohan fully awake with a gasp and a shudder. Memories of his childhood paraded around him, like miniature ghosts unwilling to leave; so many times that this same feeling had propelled him to his parents' room and the safety of their arms. But it was different now.

Gohan sat up and brushed his damp fringe away from his forehead, wondering what sort of terror had pushed him from his dreams when he first noticed the sound. It was a sound that was more of a musical sound than a vocal sound, but something about it made him feel as if he could understand…something in the somber notes. It was not any instrument that he had ever heard, at least not all at once, but just when he was sure he knew the sound, it would fade into the darkness again.

He threw his covers off as the sound began to fade and dashed to his window, curious if the sound was coming from beyond his walls, but as he ripped open the window, his head began to swim. He latched onto the window sill and sank to his knees; his vision brightened as the musical voice whispered into his head, nearly stealing his ability to breath.

"What…" he choked off his words as something began to _move_ within him, and instantly he felt feverish. Fear crawled up his spine as his breathing became heavy and he felt himself sink down to the ground, flat on his back. The world was pressing into him with such heavy gravity, he knew that he was about to be crushed. Never before had he experienced such a heavy feeling.

Just as quickly as it had begun, the force lifted, although the musical voice became insistent, leaving off with what Gohan recognized as a repeated…something. The last melodious syllables disappeared into the darkness they had come from, leaving Gohan gasping and sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom.

_What the heck was that?_ Slowly, he pushed himself up and stared around his room. After a moment he sighed and pushed to his feet. _Figures I would be accosted by strange musical notes; why not, I had belligerent, tailless monkeys after me and abduction by a flying saucer and…gee what else happened, I am getting a little tired of keeping up with it all!_

He stepped to his window and looked out over the calm, cool moon splashed foliage beyond his room. Too awake to sleep now, he reached for the remote for the Energy Block and clicked it off, relieved when the Block clattered to the wood of his bedroom floor. In just his pajamas, he crept from his room via his window and walked into the forest.

His thoughts would not leave him alone. After his father had gone earlier, he had actually lain down and taken a nap, but before he could fall asleep, he had to wrestle with the feelings that kept rising up and trying to suffocate him. He couldn't understand why he was still struggling with…whatever it was. He sighed and held a branch out of the way as he walked on, the crunch of the fallen leaves and other foliage under his feet comforting him. A gentle, cool breeze brushed across his skin, peppering the flesh with little bumps and making him wish he had grabbed something to keep him warm.

Was he a strangeness magnet? First monkeys posing as Satan's Spawn, then an invisible ship that wanted to—well he wasn't sure what _that_ had been about: he still had nothing on the Blaque Stone. And now he had UFM's (Unidentified Floating Music) pestering him in the middle of the night. He couldn't go to a public school—he would be a laughing stock. It would be even worse than his classmates finding out that he was of an alien warrior race.

The ground beneath his feet began to gently slope, so Gohan lifted into the air and set a course for…somewhere. Flying with the wind brushing against him made his attack of goose bumps catastrophic, but he did his very best to ignore it, instead mentally circling the problems in his life.

Solutions were apparently not a part of the equation for him, however, because as he drifted across a desert, he found none available. Totally frustrated and ready to punch a hole in a mountain, or ascend to Super Saiyajin and scream a crater into the earth, Gohan became of his surroundings and nearly laughed: he had made his way to his old training grounds. Again.

"What is it about this place that I keep coming back to?" He asked.

"I have no idea; maybe you enjoyed being beat up." Gohan smiled, not surprised by the other's presence. He turned and looked up to a tall, thin mountain where Piccolo sat not a yard away from him.

"Maybe. Or maybe I just keep coming back to see if you can still do it," he smarted back. Piccolo raised an eyebrow at his tone and stood, a smirk playing around his lips.

"Who am I to complain when a lamb offers itself to the slaughter?" Gohan smiled and rolled his eyes, not sure if a spar was what he needed to do, but fully ready to give it a try.

"Oh wait, I have to go home first and grab the Energy Block!" He turned sparkling, ornery eyes on the green man. Piccolo snorted…and disappeared.

Gohan caught the fist headed for his face and twisted away, pulling Piccolo into a lurch before sending a fist of his own toward his abdomen. Piccolo dodged it and kicked out, connecting with Gohan's crossed arms. The teenager laughed grimly and shot a ki blast directly into his mentor's face.

_Yep, I'll pay for that one later!_ But he didn't care. They traded back and forth for a few moments, mere blurs to any creature down below them, until Gohan shot away, shaking his left hand out—that last hit _stung_!

And of course Piccolo was gone when he looked up again. _Yeah yeah, never take your eyes from your opponent._ One more lecture he could almost give himself in his teacher's voice. He scanned the immediate area, stretching his senses out and feeling for the Namekjin's ki signature. Suddenly, the man appeared before him and slammed a fist at his stomach, but Gohan was ready and blocked it—he missed the _other_ Piccolo's fist as it blasted into his face and sent him flying out a few feet.

_Ouch_.

Before he could think another thought, both Piccolos were on him and pummeling him like he hadn't been pummeled in a while. Flashes of his past echoed back to remind him of his training with Goku and Piccolo both: what fun _that_ had been! Two grown men beating the sense out of a kid was epic…and the bruising from those were so pretty that his mother threatened to take Gohan and leave. That was when Gohan stopped letting his mother see him without his clothes on.

Piccolo kneed him in the stomach, stealing his breath and knocking his thoughts back to where they should have been in the first place: on his opponent.

"Enough playing, Kid!" Piccolo said as he slapped Gohan and spun him around, sending him flying with a ki blast to the back. Gohan grinned and powered up, allowing the Saiyajin part of his life to take over the battle.

"Sure, Old Man!" He smarted back, not surprised when that earned him a swift kick in the…

_I am sure that will be a colorful bruise tomorrow_, he thought to himself. He rocketed higher in the air and rained down blasts on the Piccolo Twins down below. Long green arms shot from the glowing ki and wrapped around him, securing him for all of two seconds as Piccolo 2 appeared and slugged him.

An hour later, Gohan landed back first in the dirt a foot away from Piccolo1 and what was left of Piccolo 2. Both of his teacher flashed brightly and came back together as one solid, beat up Namekjin. Gohan laughed and rolled onto his side to eye his teacher through a swollen left eye.

"Well that was fun; too bad I beat you!" Piccolo fisted a handful of dirt and flung it into the teenager's face.

"Never, Brat!" Piccolo replied. Gohan's pajamas were shot and he was sure that he would be hearing about it the next day…that was if his mother ever found out about it. He wiped his mouth on what was left of the sleeve and grimaced at the grit currently in his teeth.

"That was childish, don't you think?" Piccolo just smiled and panted.

"I won," he insisted. Gohan laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Old Guy." Piccolo shot him squarely in the forehead with a sharp ki blast.

"Ow! Not cool!" Gohan said, his laughter allowing no heat into his voice. His laughter echoed off of the nearby mountains and bounced around erratically, serving to tickle the teenager further and in a few second the fifteen year old was totally given over to his fit of giggles. Helplessly, he curled onto his side and held his stomach as he laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Piccolo sat up and glared at him, but due to his re-growing an ear just then, this only served to add fuel to his fit of hilarity. Gohan pointed at the warrior and tried to make coherent words form and issue from his mouth, but all that got through was:

"Ear…popped! Bahahaha! Green..haha…just _pop_!" Gohan snorted and gave up on sanity. Piccolo rolled his eyes and flopped back, resigning himself to Gohan's laughing fit.

After a few more minutes, Gohan's chuckles had quieted to the occasional snort and Piccolo was completely healed and lying peacefully on his back, staring up at the dark sky.

"So, how much trouble were you in?" He asked, effectively killing off the last of Gohan's chuckles. The teenager sighed and rolled onto his side, supporting his head with his left hand to be able to see Piccolo.

"Not too bad, I am just grounded for…however long Dad feels that I need to be grounded for." Piccolo made a sound in his throat.

"I suppose you're lucky; he was ticked off when we were looking for you," he replied. Gohan frowned.

"Why, Piccolo? Why is he being so annoying about me going anywhere on my own? I know he thinks he's just trying to protect me, but I have lived this long without him there to catch me when I fall. What is the point?" Piccolo turned his own dark eyes on the demi-Saiyajin

"So you consider cutting yourself up as an okay state?" Gohan frowned, giving the other warrior a dirty look.

"Why does it always come back to that? I know it is wrong, but it isn't as bad as all of that! How is it any different than Dad's inability to choose his family over training? Or Vegeta's penchant for living in the Gravity Room? Or the fact that you would much rather live out here by yourself than socialize with anyone?" Gohan stopped speaking as Piccolo sat up and rested his forearms on his drawn up knees; he looked directly into Gohan's eyes, as if wanting to penetrate the teenager's very thoughts.

"Because we are adults and you are not," he said quietly. "We have lived longer than you; it is your parents' job to keep you safe, wouldn't you say?"

Gohan shrugged and broke contact with Piccolo's intense gaze, choosing to keep his comment of how Piccolo wasn't much older than him to himself. Instead, he looked off across the wide, dusty expanse of earth.

"Goku didn't keep you safe during the Cell Games, Gohan, and he knows that now. He made a mistake, but I think he's trying to correct that and to not fall into that mistake again. Do yourself a favor and learn from his mistakes so you don't grow up and make the same ones." Piccolo quietly continued.

"I _know that_, Piccolo, but does he have to be so annoying about it? I should be able to go check out a lab by myself!" Gohan gripped.

"Except he had to save you from it," Piccolo corrected. Gohan growled low in his throat.

"No, he didn't, I had a plan and was just fine, Piccolo! I wasn't in any danger and neither was Bird, but he jumped in and just had to save the day!" Piccolo sighed.

"Gohan, he's your dad, he wants to keep you safe; he wants to 'jump in' and 'save the day' where you are concerned."

"Except he didn't," Gohan whispered. Piccolo looked over at him again, not surprised by the quiet admission or the stark hurt on the younger's face.

"No, he didn't," Piccolo quietly agreed. "But he came back, Gohan, just for that very reason. You have to accept that he made a mistake, Kid, and also accept that he is here because he loves you and wants to keep you safe; maybe because he didn't do a very good job of it when you were younger." Gohan was quiet after that—not much he could say about that.

He stood up and began brushing off the dirt from his clothes, turning his back on his mentor. Piccolo smirked and shot a tiny ki blast at the teenager's backside.

"Eyaa!" Gohan shouted in surprise and stood straight up, jumping into the sky and spinning around, finally acknowledging that Piccolo had collapsed back on the ground. His shoulders shook with laughter.

"Not cool, Piccolo," the teenager groused, rubbing the sting out of the left cheek. "Not cool!" But the Son grin on his face accepted the joke. Piccolo chuckled again and stood, spinning into the air and sending a billowing cloud out from his clothes. Gohan laughed and shut his eyes against the dirt, copying his mentor and releasing dirt from his own clothes in the same way.

"Hey, Piccolo, I really do need to find out about the Blaque Stone; any ideas?" Piccolo tilted his head to the side.

"I have thought about it; Kami knows nothing, but Nail seems to remember hearing something about it. I have asked Korin, but he said he wasn't a library book." Gohan cracked a smile at that.

"Would Dende know anything?" He asked. Piccolo shrugged.

"I don't know; I haven't asked Dende anything," Piccolo replied. Gohan nodded his head, beginning to feel hope eek into his mood.

"Let's go now!" He said, excitement building in his dark eyes. He brushed a patch of dirt off of his left forearm and glanced in the direction of the Look Out, unconsciously lifting into the sky.

"Gohan, you didn't happen to tell your father where you were headed, did you?" The Namekjin raised an eyebrow at the teenager's bleak hesitation. Piccolo sighed.

"Kid, are you _ever_ going to get it?" His mentor's voice was exasperated. Gohan shrugged, twisting his fingers together.

"Ok, so I will go back home and talk to Dad and then meet you at the Look Out?" Piccolo chuckled.

"I'll go home with you, Kid, so your dad doesn't kill you," he replied. Gohan nodded his head and hurled himself into the sky, going break neck to reach his house. He felt like he finally had a direction to go in!

DBZ

"Mommy!" Goten called as he bounded into the house, his round face nearly breaking from the huge grin he sported. His Daddy followed him into the house at a more sedate pace, but with an identical grin. Bird was just stepping into the room from the hallway, her expression pale.

"Goku, Chichi isn't feeling well," she said, her voice wavering. Goku felt a stone drop into the pit of his stomach as he took in Bird's strained expression. He laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking into the girl's pale blue eyes. Bird crossed her arms over her chest, but Goten wrapped his little arms around the girl's legs, trying to sooth her. She smiled down at the little boy and rested her left hand on the dark hair.

"She has been vomiting for the last few hours," she said, ruffling the demi-Saiyajin's black hair. Goku frowned and nodded his head.

"Ok. You don't need to worry about it, I am here and will take care of her; will you keep an eye on Goten for me?"

"I wanna see Mommy," Goten announced firmly. Goku chuckled and kneeled down to the boy's level.

"Ok Little Guy, but I am going to go check on Mommy first." He brushed a knuckle against the little boy's cheek and stood, moving down the hall.

"Gohan is gone again," Bird whispered to him. Goku paused and turned to look at her.

"Again?" He said with a sigh. Bird nodded.

With a shake of his head, Goku turned down the hall and continued on to his bedroom, entering the darkened room with hardly a sound. His wife lay curled on her left side, her hair pulled back into a braid down her back; a large bowl rested on the floor beside her, but it was empty. Goku stepped close and brushed two fingers against her brow. Her skin was cool to the touch and as he pulled away, she opened her eyes. Drawn by her expression, Goku knelt down beside her on the floor.

"Chichi, are you ok?" he asked. His beautiful, young bride smiled weakly.

"Yes, just not feeling very good today," she admitted. "You're on your own for supper I think." Goku smiled and brushed his fingertips against her cool cheek again.

"Don't worry about anything, Chi, I'll take care of you and supper." Chichi smiled and shut her eyes again. Goku pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek and stood. Sounds in the living room pulled his attention away from Chichi. He tilted his head to the side and listened for a moment before he stepped out of the room, pulling his door closed.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" Gohan was asking as Goku stepped back into the living room. Bird shook her head, but Gohan saw his father as he stepped into the room.

Goku noticed the shredded state of Gohan's clothes and that Piccolo stood near the door and he felt another pitch in his stomach.

"What's happened?" He asked. Gohan shook his head.

"I just had a spar," he offered with a sheepish smile, fingering his brother's dark hair. Of course the little boy was wrapped around Gohan from where he perched in his brother's arms. Goku shook his head, suddenly feeling so old.

"In other words, you left the house without permission _again_," he said, exasperated. Gohan sighed, set Goten on the ground, and crossed his arms.

"Dad, I just—"

"'Needed some time to yourself?'" Goku asked, his voice severe. Gohan threw up his hands.

"No, I needed to think!"

"And you couldn't do that here?" Gohan growled in his throat, tired of the same old fight.

"Dad—" but Goku was shaking his head and slashed the air with his open hand, silencing the teenager.

"No more; I don't want to hear your excuses right now. You're mother isn't feeling well, so I need you to help me cook supper and take care of your brother." Goten frowned and snuggled closer to his big brother's legs where he had attached himself. Bird had faded into the background, drifted into the kitchen, and quietly began cleaning up. Gohan noticed, but for the life of him, he was so sucked into the idea of knowing anything about the Blaque Stone, he decided to wait to talk to the girl.

"But, Dad, Piccolo said he thinks that Nail had some knowledge of the Blaque Stone; we were going to go to the Look Out and talk to Dende!" Goku paused and looked away, the whole situation really irritating him.

"Please, Dad," Gohan whispered. Goku looked back at him, also seeing Piccolo and Goten listening in to everything he said. He sighed and crooked his fore finger at the teenager as he moved into the hall way. Piccolo remained where he was, his dark eyes following the android girl as she worked in the kitchen.

"Gohan," the Saiyajin began, but paused and closed his eyes. He sighed again, annoyed. "Ok, you may go to the Look Out, but Piccolo will go with you and you will not leave his sight, yes?" Gohan rolled his eyes, but stopped with a grunt as his father slapped the back of his head so hard that he rocked slightly forward.

"Ok! I get it already! Would you stop?" Goku's expression was severe as Gohan rubbed the back of his head.

"Geez, Dad, I don't need brain damage added to all of my other issues," he grumbled, shooting a look at the taller man.

"Then act better," Goku replied. Gohan stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely.

"Ok, well, I will be back after while then, ok?" Goku nodded with his mouth set into a very straight, tight line.

"You and I will talk more when you are home," he announced tightly, his tone actually sending a thrill of fear down the teenager's spine. He nodded.

"Fine."

Gohan said goodbye to his little brother, poked his head into the kitchen and promised Bird that he would talk to her later before he skedaddled. As they flew, Gohan pushed all of the unpleasant thoughts out of his head—or tried to. Piccolo was frowning and determined to talk to the kid as they flew.

"You are being a stubborn ass, Gohan," he announced on their way to the Look Out. Gohan shot his mentor a surprised glance. Piccolo frowned at him, his dark eyes reproachful.

"You are ignoring Bird, Goten, and your father and I want to know why," he demanded. Gohan shook his head.

"I will sort it all out once I figure out what the Blaque Stone is," he announced. Piccolo grunted, but Gohan wasn't done yet. "And who are you to accuse me of being a stubborn ass?"

"How well is that working for you so far?" Piccolo asked, ignoring the teenager's jab. Gohan shook his head again.

"Never mind, Piccolo, it isn't that big of a deal," the teenager mumbled, suddenly beginning to feel crowded in. Piccolo shook his head and dropped the subject, fully intending to revisit the issue soon. The Namekjin had a very odd feeling that something was going on with his young friend—or at least, something _else_ was going on.

As soon as they touched down on the Look Out, Mr. Popo greeted them, his round, black face devoid of emotion as he gestured them into one of the larger chambers. Dende stood beside a pedestal with a large basin, nearly two feet in diameter perched on top. It was filled with some kind of liquid, although Gohan could not name it. Maybe it was just a glorified bird bath.

Dende had grown from the child that he had been. He now stood nearly a foot taller than Gohan. Guilt bubbled up to perch on his shoulder like an annoying parrot: the last time he had seen Dende was after his secret little world had been blown open.

"Gohan," Dende greeted him, his green face crafting into a pleasant smile. Yup, still that little Namekjin kid in there! Gohan's shame eased some at the expression on the Guardian's face. Maybe Dende would forgive him for all of his stupid crap one of these days.

"Hi, Dende!" Gohan returned. He stepped closer to the odd stone basin and peered into the liquid. Piccolo moved up behind him and exchanged a look with the young Guardian, although it was totally missed by the teenager. "What is this?"

"It is called _Sarrjarah_—'the keeper,'" Dende replied. Gohan furrowed his brow as he glanced up at Dende.

"What does it keep?" He asked, trying to grasp the odd, flitting feeling of hilarity in his personal sphere…and failing. "Or do I want to know that?" Dende smiled and shook his head.

"What is it that you need to know?" Gohan smiled and scratched the tip of his nose. He really did not like it when people answered a question with a question.

"Why is that no matter how hard you try you can _never_ empty a peanut butter jar of all—" Dende's laughter cut him off before he could finish his query.

"I think there are some parts of the legend which are true, at least," he said, speaking to Piccolo. Gohan blinked and eyed both green aliens, desperately trying to figure out why he wasn't more annoyed that they were apparently carrying on a conversation about him in front of him. Without his knowledge. How rude is that?

"Umm," he uttered, intelligently. Dende smiled and reached his hand up, gently caressing his cheek—and sucking whatever otherworldly joy that had been hijacking his mood away from him. He stood there, stunned for a moment as an angry flash of light blazed forth into his Namekjin friend.

"Whoa." His vocabulary was growing, apparently. Dende smiled again, although this time, the smile was tight.

"It's okay, Gohan, do not be afraid," he said.

"I'm not." At least, not until you said _that_. The teenager crossed his arms, feeling strangely hollow. "What's going on?"

In reply, Dende reached forth again and brushed his fingertip against Gohan's left bicep, a pinch and a spark of burning hot electricity zapped into his skin and made him jump.

"Ouch!" He yelped, rubbing furiously at the red wheal on his skin. "What was _that_?"

Dende pursed his lips and flicked a glance at Piccolo. "If I am not completely mistaken," he began. "That would be the Blaque Stone."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Walk This Way"

-Aerosmith

_AN: nope, couldn't help myself! I was listening to one of my Aerosmith albums and just could not get this song out of my head. I didn't really see this fit the chapter very well, but then again, it did. And that has nothing at all to do with the fact that all of this was written across several late night/ early morning 'jam sessions' (November words for nearly half asleep writing that tends to be a little bit more fun and easy going. Think drinking alcohol to get into the writing mood…without the alcohol. ^_^) _

_Warnings: Some language, but nothing too terrible I don't think. No real violence either, but don't worry…I have plans!_

"What are you thinking?" Krillin asked. Eighteen took a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing all of the tension to drain from her shoulders.

"I think…that it does not surprise me at all about Bird," she admitted quietly. Marron shifted in her sleep against Eighteen's chest, her blond curls were crushed between her face and her mommy's shirt, but she smelled clean and fresh after her bath. Krillin moved closer and tugged the blanket higher up onto his daughter's back.

"What about Marron?" he whispered as he settled back against the bench. Around them, the city was trying to hunker down to sleep with honking horns and random voices in the distance, but their tiny little patio was cool and cozy.

Eighteen looked down at their little girl and brushed her hand gently down her back, feeling once again, the sudden wave of awe and thankfulness that this tiny little miracle was hers.

"She will be fine," the once android woman replied. "We love her and will take care of her; that's all that matters."

"Even with these visions?" The monk asked. Eighteen curled her arms protectively around the little girl in her arms. Krillin's worried face eased some at the gesture.

"It's okay, Krillin, don't worry so much. So our daughter is grifted," she said, her voice firm. Krillin smiled in the dimness and brushed a kiss against his wife's hand, followed by another against his daughter's blond hair.

"And Bird, Darling?" A flicker of something echoed in Eighteen's eyes, but she refused to give it voice.

"It will come right," she said softly. Honestly, how could Krillin disagree?

DBZ

"WHAT?" Gohan yelled. He blinked at the Guardian of earth as if he had grown horns as well as antennae. "What do you mean that was the Blaque Stone?" Dende sighed and flicked two fingers at the basin.

"Knowledge is a tricky thing," he began, holding his hands up flat to cease Gohan's argument. "Some things that were once known have been lost to legend and eternity." He turned back and stepped again to the side of the basin.

"_Sarrjarah_ is a record keeper of sorts," he explained quietly. "Although there are still so many things lost even to _Sarrjarah_, I began to do some poking about when I realized what you were looking for; on Namek, memories are longer than on earth."

"So this thing is from Namek?" Gohan asked, gensturing to the basin. Dende shook his head and smiled.

"No, I just first came to think of it after speaking with some of the elders on Namek," he explained. Gently, he reached out with his right hand and barely touched the surface of the liquid with the pad of his middle finger. The liquid jumped around, growing darker and darker until it shimmered with an odd glint and a voice began to speak.

"_Genesis unknown; the Edeph is an obscure thing. Some records speak of unimaginable power, others speak of its ability to change the mood of its carrier. All recordings relate that it is always within the power of an innocent, although these same recordings say that it holds sway over, and can alter the innocence of its carrier. _

"_Later recordings call it the Blaque Stone."_

As the last of the words melted into the air, Gohan felt staggered and confused. 'Within the power of an innocent'? What the hell did that mean?

"I am afraid that is all that I have been able to find," Dende said quietly.

Gohan looked at the floor and shook his head, suddenly feeling such a pull against his heart that he wanted to croak. Vaguely he wondered if that is what the disembodied voice had meant by the 'ability to change the mood of its carrier'? Carrier? Carrier! What the hell? Was he now a camel in the desert? He shook his head again and sighed.

"This is not all that there is," Piccolo added quietly from behind him, his resinous voice leaping out and grounding Gohan. The teenager turned and sought his gaze.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, hating the sudden melancholy that had taken up room in his voice. Piccolo favored him with a still look, his black eyes drilling into Gohan's own; a physical reassurance all on its own.

"We will find out more," his teacher promised. And Gohan believed him.

As they were leaving, Dende grasped Gohan's hand and tugged him away from the edge and away from the elder Namekjin for privacy.

"Gohan, I know so many things, but I am not omniscient," he admitted. He tilted his head to the side and gazed at his friend. "Will you tell me the truth if I ask how you are?"

"I am…better," the teenager admitted. Dende raised an eyebrow, but Gohan just offered a slow, tired smile.

"I am. I just—"

"Still feel that call that beckons and begs for your blood?" the Guardian asked, his dark eyes calculating. Gohan stilled and held Dende's gaze, a slithering ache pulsing in his belly. There was no denying that.

Dende nodded his head without breaking their gaze.

"Will you come to visit if it becomes too great for you?" Gohan felt as if the Guardian had jerked the floor from beneath his feet and then sat on him, both stealing and keeping his breath. But his friend still eyed him with such a strong concern, that the teenager could not deny him.

"I will," he whispered. Some part of him whispered that Gohan _knew_ that he was lying, but he quickly silenced it and turned back for the edge of the Look Out and Piccolo. Behind him, as Dende bid them farewell, the teenager instinctively knew that the Guardian was no more fooled than anyone else.

DBZ

The darkness beyond the window snaked into the room, upsetting the curtains and sending them billowing into the room. The harsh light from a distant street lamp filtered into the room and splashed against the wall high above the bed where two lovers lay. Blue hair was splayed across one of the pillows and partially across the darkened skin of the Saiyajin Prince's chest.

The wind that had shifted the curtains disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving the room barren and unnatural in the state of its stillness. It was more the absence of obvious danger than anything else that pulled the man from his sleep, but when his dark eyes snapped open, he felt the immediate threat in the air.

Carefully, he disentangled himself from his wife and moved with stealth to the window, brushing aside the still drapes and stepping out onto the balcony off of their room. An instinct that he had fought and paid for with blood and loss drove him, although he could not tell where he was going or to what end. He just knew that he had to be on his guard.

The threat was there, merely hidden.

Turning swiftly, he ventured from the silence of his own room and down the hallway to that of his only son. Trunks slept with his shirt rolled up underneath his arm pits, while his left leg was leaned against the wall and his right was bent and lying flat on the bed. In the privacy of his own space, Vegeta allowed a tiny smile to pull the left corner of his lips up. His son snored, which had to be most unbecoming of a prince, but the current 'Prince' couldn't help be not care.

Firmly, he tugged the shirt back into place and shifted the little boy around until he lay properly—and much more comfortably—in his bed before he tugged the sheet up to just to above his hips. Trunks let loose with a wiffling snore and a moan and rolled sideways, flinging his arms out and flopping onto his belly. Vegeta smirked again and turned to leave the room, satisfied that his son was secure.

He padded back to his room, his disquiet still keeping him on edge, although he had found nothing that explained it.

He had learned to trust that feeling.

He stepped back out onto the balcony and glared up at the sky, trying to work out if he were annoyed or merely pissed that he was awake. Some part of him—the Saiyajin part obviously—insisted that he should be thrilled to have a threat; some way to push himself more, have a good challenge. But he had gotten comfortable. And as much as he still loved the fight, the two other people he had just checked on had _changed_ him. He was irrevocably different now; maybe for the good, maybe for the bad, but he was different anyway.

_Damn Goku_, he thought to himself. He leaned forward and settled his crossed arms on the cold metal railing around the balcony while he mused. He was still shirtless, but the stillness of the night brought no chill to his skin as he allowed his sharp eyesight to wander over the city.

Movement behind him made his shoulders tense, but a mere second passed before he recognized both the gentle flow of feminine ki and the curvaceous figure that joined him on the balcony.

"What's wrong?" Bulma asked, blinking her eyes open as she wound her long arms around Vegeta's chest. Vegeta smirked when he noticed she had not a stitch of clothing on. The woman had no _shame_! And that was exactly the way he liked her, if he were honest with himself.

"Nothing," he replied quietly, stilling as she ran the fingertip of one hand across his belly; unable to stop it, he shivered before he chuckled.

_Maybe Goku didn't screw things up too bad after all._ With a smirk, he turned and pulled the blue-haired woman against him and kissed her, suddenly sure that whatever it was the lurked just on the outside of his senses would be warned; he had no intentions of loosing the life he currently had.

And _nothing_ would harm his wife or his son.

DBZ

It was late by the time that Gohan had returned home. Piccolo had warned him to go inside and stay there, his expression tense. With growing dread, the teenager felt the familiar draw of danger: something was not right.

He stepped into the house and closed the door with a soft click before resting his back against the wooden grain. Fear so thick it threatened to drown him hung around his neck and squeezed. He swallowed past the emotion and closed his eyes, trying vainly to still the furious pounding of his heart.

"Gohan?" He blinked his eyes open to see Bird standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him. In her hand she held a tray that had two tea cups and a tea pot on it; she was already dressed for bed with soft pink cotton capris barely reaching to her knees and a matching shirt.

"Your father is already asleep: he fell asleep in Goten's room; your mother has been asleep since you left and has slept soundly ever since." The teenager nodded his head and reached for the tray of tea which Bird relinquished easily. She clasped her hands together and held them before her, the same way she had done many times before. Her eyes were pale blue, but luminescent in the darkened room; Gohan felt the fear triple with the guilt added on.

"Bird," he began. "I'm sorry for not telling you about Eighteen."

"Could we go to your room and talk for a little while?" She asked, biting her lip and looking away. Obviously she was not ready to accept his apology. He nodded and went straight for his room, the thin girl trailing behind him. He set the tray on the foot of his bed and sat down near the head of his bed, while Bird settled on the end with her back pressed against the wall and the tray between them. Quietly, she carefully poured a cup of tea for both of them before she sat back and took a gentle sip.

"I am not angry with you, Gohan," she whispered. "I know that you are afraid I will leave here." Gohan frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but then clamped it shut again. Good point.

"I love being here," she whispered, taking a slow sip of her tea before she continued. "I truly love Chichi and Goten, and even Goku has made it so very easy to love him."

"Yeah he does that," Gohan said, raising the tea cup to his lips. Bird smiled gently over her cup.

"And you were my first friend," she whispered, the tone of her words changing. She leveled her eyes on him, pinning him with a look that he had never seen her give before. "And I will trust you always, Gohan, but I do ask that no matter what, you trust me as well; I knew the trouble you were in before you acknowledged it yourself. Even before anyone else knew, I knew."

Gohan bowed his head.

"And you have seen me at my worst," the girl whispered. Her eyes were pleading with him, bringing images of the mangled bird into his thoughts. "Please do not keep truths from me again." Gohan swallowed hard, knowing that her request was perfectly acceptable, but unable to bring himself to promise anything.

"I know that you are still having trouble with your father," she announced. Gohan shot her a wry grin.

"_Anyone_ can see that," he said, joking. Bird smiled and tipped her head in agreement, choosing to be quiet as they sipped more tea. Gohan felt restless, as if the threat and danger that he felt were immediate, so he rose to his feet and stepped to the window.

"Bird," he began, "have you sensed anything strange lately?" Bird tilted her head to the side as if listening to something, her blue eyes perusing the teenager by the window.

"No." Gohan nodded his head, wondering if he was just being extremely paranoid. He sighed. Would not really and truly surprise him after all of the crap that he had been through.

They finished their tea, made their own trips to the bathroom, and then climbed into his bed, hunkering down under the covers. Bird sat up and reached up, slowly braiding her hair in the moonlight. Gohan watched her and wondered if his parents would kill him if they stumbled on this little sleeping arrangement of theirs. Ever since she had appeared to him that night when he was still recovering, he would awaken some nights to find her curled up next to him. Perhaps to someone else it would appear inappropriate, but to Gohan, he knew she just needed to have that human contact. There was nothing indecent or even vaguely adolescent in the act, it was merely needing to have someone to go to when you were upset or hurt. Much like when Goten would get into bed with him in the middle of the night. He couldn't remember the number of times he had woken up to a small person flung across his chest, snoring to bring down the house.

No, Bird was in no danger; Gohan held the same affection for her that he held for Goten, only she had brushed past a chink of his armor that the teenager wasn't even aware was damaged. She had been the first one to poke at the rawness underneath the face he showed to the world. He owed her so much.

"Shhh," she whispered. "I can hear you thinking; be quiet and go to sleep." The teenager laughed and crawled out of the covers to the end of the bed. He reached out and snatched the Block from the desk before he tossed himself back into bed again, snapped the damn thing in place, and settled down under the covers again.

"Did you learn anything with Piccolo?" She asked.

"Yes and then no," he replied dryly. "Dende showed me what all he had so far, but it's not much. Apparently, the Blaque Stone has been around for centuries and any real records of it are gone." Gohan bit his lip, wondering how much he should reveal to her. Bird rose up on one arm and poked him in the chest.

"I know there's more," she said, firmness lingering in her voice. Gohan sighed and promptly told her everything that had happened on the Look Out, subtract the end conversation between he and Dende; that bit was not necessary to the conversation or the subject.

"So, that light that jumped out at you? Dende believe you carry this Blaque Stone inside?" Gohan shrugged and rubbed at his left eye, trying to make it less sleepy.

"That's all I can tell. Piccolo didn't say much about it on the way home, but I get the feeling that he may know a little bit more than he is letting on," Gohan mused. "He and Dende seemed to be having a conversation without, you know, having a conversation. About me. In front of me, even, Bird, isn't that rude?" His earlier thoughts broke the surface of his tired brain. He laid his head on his pillow.

"Bird," he asked. "Am I in really bad trouble?" Bird sighed into the pillow, her own eyes dropping shut.

"Your father did seem irritated with you; I think he is tired of your penchant for disappearing as well," she admitted.

"Well, maybe if he would let go a little on 'protecting me,' I wouldn't be so annoying." The last bit of his sentence was eaten up by a yawn that brought tears to his eyes. Bird snuggled into the pillow again and murmured something, but Gohan was too far gone to finish the conversation.

DBZ

"Woo hoo!" Goten cried. He happily hopped down from the poofy cloud that he had been perched on and landed with a little tumble on the grass. Bird laughed and copied the little boy's actions, drawing a chuckle from the other teenager. She looked over and smiled at him before taking Goten's hand.

"Why can't we fly to Trunks' house?" Goten asked, his dark eyes taking in every detail as they strolled through the city. Gohan took a moment to marvel at how well his little brother was speaking

"Because we don't want to draw attention to ourselves," Gohan replied. Goten nodded, taking the answer; which was unusual for the child.

Gohan allowed his two companions to walk head of him, watching as Goten tugged Bird from one store front to another, eagerly pressing his nose to the window and peering inside. Passerby's would smile at the little boy's exuberance. Bird glanced back at him and smiled at him, her blue eyes crystalline in the early morning light.

That morning, Goku had walked in to his bedroom, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Bird settled on the foot of Gohan's bed as the two kids talked. Gohan had been afraid that his father would say something about the girl being in his room, but he did not broach the subject. Instead, he had informed them that Chichi was still not feeling well and asked if they would be willing to take Goten and go visit Bulma and Trunks. Gohan was only too happy to get away from the house and even more thrilled with the idea that he was being allowed to leave without an escort!

"Gohan!" The teenager looked to his left as they strolled along and noticed Arale waving at them from across the street. The demi-Saiyajin raised a hand and waved back as Arale sprinted over, her backpack banging against her right shoulder. "Haven't seen you for ages! Where have you been?" Gohan shrugged.

"Busy," he allowed. "Where are you going?" Bird and Goten had stopped, letting the other two teenagers catch up to them. Goten detached himself from Bird and nearly flung himself at Arale in greeting.

"Hi!" He announced, grasping her right arm in both of his. She smiled at him, her expression a little forced at the little boy's hyperactivity. Bird smiled at her.

"Hello there," Arale replied. "You're Goten, yes?"

"Yep! How did you know that?" His dark eyes were curious, drawing a smile from Arale.

"Your big brother has mentioned you," she replied. Gohan chuckled as they continued toward Bulma's house.

"Where are you off to?" He asked again, swiping his dark bangs off of his forehead. He eyed Bird's innocent, smiling face and slapped his forehead. "Oh and this is Bird, a really close friend of ours."

"Nice to meet you, Bird; my name's Arale." Bird smiled shyly and edged closer to Gohan. The dark haired girl didn't seem fazed by the other girl's behavior, but if she had, she wouldn't have had the chance as the mini whirlwind that was Goten yanked her forward.

"Whoa," Gohan laughed, catching Arale's elbow as she stumbled from the force. "Easy Kiddo; you almost yanked her arm off."

"'k. Sorry." Goten's eyes were twinkling so brightly, they were anything but apologetic; but he remained by her side, only to pause for a moment and reach for Bird's hand as well before he continued down the sidewalk. Gohan laughed out loud at the sight of the two girls flanking the little boy as he moseyed down the block.

"Wow," he murmured to himself, still chuckling.

"To answer your question," Arale began. "I am heading up to Capsule Corporation to grab my assignment spiral for school." Gohan made a face.

"Yeah I haven't been in trouble lately," he murmured. "Or, I haven't been sent to Capsule Corp as punishment in a while. Isn't it Saturday?" Arale smiled.

"Yes, but I forgot my assignment spiral and can't study without it."

"What's that?" Gohan shifted to the side, allowing a laughing couple to walk past him. Arale tugged her shoulder bag higher up on her shoulder.

"Calculus," she admitted. Her fingers gripped her shoulder strap in agitation. "Don't really like it, but you do what you must to pass."

They cool air of Capsule Corporation hit them as they walked into the impressive building. Arale patted Goten on the head and waved to the other two teenagers before she quickly disappeared in the elevators.

"Twunks!" Goten squealed as the purple headed little boy walked into the atrium, following his mother. His shoulders were slumped as his mother berated him for something.

"—never again will I hear so much as a peep about you going down there or so help me, Trunks I will suspend your desert privileges for a month!" Trunks' blue eyes widened and his lips parted and formed into a rounded 'oh' at his mother's threat. But she wasn't done yet. "_And_ you will be your father's spar buddy for a whole week; and you can just forget about tv!"

"Okay, Mom!" Trunks said, his eyes darting around at the other occupants of the atrium, wishing for the floor to open wide and allow him to sink down deep. Bulma nodded her head, her lips pursed as she sent him one more glare before turning a deceptively wide, happy smile at the teenager before her.

"Welcome again, Gohan!" She said, twitching her left hand forward as a gesture for Trunks to stop sulking. Goten hurled himself at the purple haired child, grabbing his left arm and nearly dragging him away.

"Come on! I got lots to do!" Goten could be heard outlining his play date as he dragged the youngest Saiyajin Prince outside. Gohan chuckled and shook his head.

"He is just like his father," Bulma said, her tone exasperated. Her blue hair swished against her shoulders as she shook her head, turning back to the two teenagers. "Well, Kids, your dad said you two were coming; what are you planning on doing?"

"Actually," Bird said softly. "I need to run some errands, if that's okay."

"Uh, really?" Gohan said, surprised.

"Anything I can help you with?" Bulma offered, tilting her head to the side. Bird's cheeks darkened into a blush, confusing Gohan.

"Yes, actually," the girl replied, not meeting Gohan's eyes.

_Okay_, Gohan thought to himself. Bulma smiled and flipped her hand at the teenager, urging him to go about his business as she and Bird drifted toward the door, twittering like a pair of birds. The boy stood there for a moment, completely confused until he shook his head and decided to quench his curiosity by skipping down to the labs for a peek at whatever Arale was busy with.

In just a few moments, the demi-Saiyajin was downstairs and entering the lab through the swishing doors. The open lab was dark, but farther back into the lab, Arale sat slumped over a notebook.

"Find it?" She lifted her head and smiled at him, quickly shutting her notebook before she hurriedly shoved it into her backpack.

"Yup," she said. Gohan quirked an eyebrow at her, but the girl avoided his gaze. "So, I didn't really get an answer about what brought you here."

"Ah, well, for something to do, I suppose," he answered. "My father said my mother was not feeling very well, so he told us to get lost basically."

"Oh, well that's nice that you would take your brother out for a while." Gohan shrugged, still intrigued by the strange look on the other's face.

"I am pretty pleased to be away from home without a babysitter myself," he admitted dryly. Arale tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"Really? You require a babysitter?" Gohan gave her a dirty look before he stepped over to one of the doors leading to one of the offices.

"I don't _require_ one, I simply am not allowed to live without one."

"Oh. Who made that decision?" Gohan ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, the beginnings of a headache starting behind his eyes.

"Does it matter?" His tone was a little more clipped than he had intended, but he didn't take it back.

"No, it just seems like you might need to talk about it," she replied, tugging her backpack onto her left shoulder this time. She made a face as the strap of her pack pulled on her dark hair, so she shifted and unstuck her hair as she waited for his response. Gohan shifted uneasily.

"Nah," he said easily. "What do you have to do now?" Arale's expression tightened before she allowed a smile to break through.

"I have an idea," she said. "Do you remember when Cell came and unleashed the Games?" Gohan felt a thrill of absolute unease tremble across his being, but he nodded quietly.

"Did you know that Bulma has the video of it?"

"Uh, no," he answered, not liking the direction of the conversation. Arale dropped her backpack into the chair beside her desk and stepped to the cabinets above Sycor's workstation.

"You know that guy that stopped that car from hitting Videl? The one they were calling the Golden Warrior?" Gohan sighed, not truly managing to hide the grimace on his face as he nodded.

"Well, I saw Sycor and Deban watching it one day after everyone else was supposed to go home and it seemed to be the same person; I have been wanting to snag a peek at it again, but I just haven't found the moment to do it. Do you want to watch it with me?" There was _something_ in her expression, but it seemed to be gone again so quickly, Gohan wasn't so sure that he had really seen anything.

"Sure," he murmured. _I would rather run around this city stark naked, but I guess I can sit through whatever the cameras caught._ He hoped it wasn't so close to home that it ended him.

Arale had put the disk into the player and pulled a rolling chair over with her left foot. Gohan turned a chair around, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and sat on it backwards, resting his arms across the back and watching as the light flickered, showing the beginnings of his own personal day in hell.

Nearly two hours later, they had looked through most of the video of what had happened those four years ago, and Gohan had a dangerous trembling in his limbs.

"Don't you think they look similar?" Arale whispered, her eyes appearing to gaze way too deeply into Gohan's expression. He nodded and stood up, his heartbeat from that morning had disappeared, replaced by a horrible, ghastly thudding that Gohan had thought was gone. He took a deep breath through his nose, his jaw clamped much too tightly to allow any air through. His mouth was exceedingly dry and everything about him _screamed_ for blood. He closed his eyes, feeling claustrophobic as a cold sweat began on the back of his neck and continued downwards. He swallowed convulsively.

"I'll be right back," he muttered as he dashed to the restroom, needing a moment to himself. He failed to see Arale bite her lip as he slammed the door and locked it before he braced his hands on the sink. He flipped on the tap with his right hand, desperately scooping water into his cupped hands to splash his face.

One of the clean glasses to the right of the sink, on the low shelf, he filled with the running water. With a shuttering hand, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip of the cooling liquid. His stomach rebelled against the cool water, cramping painfully instead of easing. He gripped the water glass.

He desperately wanted the dry, wracking _numbness_ within him that demanded his blood to ease, but he was afraid he would not get away this time. He pushed his hand into his hair, gripping the ends tightly with his fingers and pulling. Pain graced his scalp, but he knew it was nowhere near enough.

He squeezed his eyes shut as fear snaked down his spine.

This was so much bigger than him.

He gasped and dropped to a crouch, resting his forehead against the cool marble of the counter top. He should never have watched that stupid video of the Cell Games. It was stupid really; was he just desperate for all of the pain that the world could offer him?

He licked his dry lips and tried to rein in the control he needed to stop the desperation crawling across his body to the tips of his fingertips.

The glass shattered, and the flesh of his hand ripped apart; blood immediately began to bubble up from the various punctures and slices across his palm. He froze, unable to think past the thickening red stuff pooling in his palm, and the way his pulse had slowed. Sickly, he acknowledged that he had given his blood lust exactly what it had been after—his blood.

Knuckles rapped against the door.

"Gohan? Are you okay?" Arale's voice was muffled through the door. Gohan's breathing eased as he noticed the dark, circular design that plopped onto the hard tile.

"Yeah," he called. "I broke a glass…and cut myself."

"Can I come in?" Gohan pressed his lips together.

"Sure," he said, his voice low. The door pushed open and Arale's dark head peered around into the narrow room.

"Oh my gosh!" she pushed the door open fully and grabbed a handful of paper towels off of the counter and pressed them to the underside of Gohan's hand, catching the blood. "Good greif, what were you doing to crush it in your hand like this?" Gohan remained quiet, still shaking from the force of his previous tension. She tugged his arm up and the teenager stood and allowed her to shove his hand under the cold running water.

The sting of the water was such a sweet, beautiful feeling that he closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, the vestiges of his earlier need vanishing.

"Wow, you did good getting glass in this," Arale muttered to herself. As the blood was washed away, it became obvious how many slivers of glass were imbedded in Gohan's hand. "Geez; wait here and let me get some tweezers."

Arale disappeared beyond the door, only to return within seconds; bright, shiny tweezers in hand.

"How exactly, did you do this?" She asked, grasping his hand in her own and tilting it into the light.

"I guess I held the glass too tightly," he replied lamely. Arale didn't bat an eyelash as she began lifting tiny slivers of glass from his wound. "You know, I'm sure it will be fine."

"I'll make a deal with you," she said abruptly. "I will not torture you with running commentary and the knowledge that you are full of crap…and you will not voice your opinions right now." She lifted her eyes to smile at him. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Sure thing," he muttered, wincing at the pain in his hand; she tugged a stubborn sliver out and dropped it with a ping into the sink.

Silence ruled, making it very easy for Gohan's mind to wander. He knew he was screwed. He knew very well that while breaking the glass was an accident, the pain in his hand still attested to the fact that it worked out very well in his favor.

He shut his eyes for a moment before he tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, trying to recall exactly why it was he was standing in a restroom with his teenaged co-worker as said co-worker dug glass out of his hand.

_Only me,_ he thought to himself. He had to admit that he was getting really good at finding trouble. Maybe he should make a career out of it; he could charge money to spectators.

The ceiling tile directly above his head was chipped a little in places. How does that even _happen_? He narrowed his eyes in thought. Of course, Saiyajins did live there…perhaps Trunks? He sighed.

"Almost got it all," his impromptu nurse said, narrowing her eyes at the various cuts on his palm. Gohan had the sudden urge to laugh as he realized that his back had just started to heal!

He really should charge money for this; it was just too twisted for television.

"There!" Arale exclaimed much too perkily. She rinsed off the ballooning blood from the cut and the smears from the tweezers and fumbled through the large cabinet beside the door. She stood with a bottle of disinfectant and poured it over the wound and the tweezers. She patted it with gauze and began to attack the wound with fresh, clean gauze.

"You really should go have this stitched up you know," she said. "But I supposed that you wouldn't, so just don't get it wet and I would swing by and purchase more gauze if you don't have any at home." She finished ordering him about with a smile and finished putting away and cleaning without another word.

Gohan brought his hand up and flexed it, annoyed with the loose tightness of his flesh. It was creepy. He frowned as a spot of blood appeared on the clean bandage.

"Do you want to come see where I live?" She asked suddenly, facing him. Gohan hid his hand behind him and plastered an innocent smile on his face.

"Uh, where's that?"

"It's a little village outside of Satan City." Arale moved from the bathroom, pausing to scoop up her backpack and settling it on her shoulder before she faced him again. Gohan had followed her into the lab, unsurprised that the video had been put away and the lab returned to normal.

"What's it called?" Arale shifted her backpack and moved toward the outer chamber so that they could leave.

"Maja Village." Gohan nodded and followed her out the door ( making double sure to keep his mouth _closed_ during the decontamination).

"How far away is it?" He asked as they left Capsule Corporation's main building. Gohan looked over his shoulder, his lips pressing firmly together as he followed the other teenager.

"Not far, it's just a twenty minute walk from the main train line." Gohan fell into step beside her.

"So, you go to Orange Star, right?" Arale nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Eh, it's okay; I think I would rather be homeschooled like you are though. It would be cool to study what I wanted," she said honestly. "What do you like to study the most?"

Gohan scratched his head, thinking about that one. He enjoyed them all, really…well, except for writing. Writing was not his favorite, but that was mostly because it required way too much time; why write when you could type?

"Anything related to science?" Arale nodded her head.

"Good thing is you're working at the lab with Bulma and her henchmen," the girl supplied, the corner of her lips twitching. Gohan allowed his laugh to obliterate what was left of the tension on his shoulders.

"So I guess that's your favorite, too?" She nodded.

"Yes, all of them; however, I also really love math. My mother still doesn't understand how I can love them both so much. She is, of course, all about the words." She said as the terminal for the train came into view.

The terminal sat low against the rails, looking for all the world like a serpent lazing in the sunlight what with the trains trailing out in every direction. The building itself was an original part of the city—one not destroyed by any alien visit yet—and was a dark red brick that was crumbling in some places up near the roof. Several nests were strewn along the underside of the overhang, with a menagerie of colorful, flittering things darting in and out.

"Prime bird real estate," Gohan commented lightly. Arale followed his gaze as they entered the building.

"Yes; actually, Mr. Satan had decreed that the birds should be banished, but a bunch of people decided that they didn't want the birds gone and fought to keep them." She strode up to the turntable and swiped a card across it before she could push through the circular bars, repeating the process for Gohan.

As they boarded the train, Gohan glanced around him, taking in the many people on the train. There was anything from adults, to children, and older people on the bus, and each one as different and various as their ages. There was even one girl on there who had dark red –think fresh blood here—hair and a man of roughly the same age sat at her feet, his eyes solely for her. Around his neck was a collar of black leather and lethal looking, silver spikes. And a leash that ended around the girl's wrist.

_Okay_. Gohan shook his head and chuckled to himself. He was way to sheltered apparently.

"Do you often ride the train?" He asked as they sat down on a bench. Arale clutched her backpack to her, her eyes darting around, taking in everything.

"Every day to school," she sighed. "But it's not too bad; I saw a woman with a pet dragon one day!" Gohan arched an eyebrow.

"Really? How did it fit in here?" In his mind's eye, he saw Icarus, the flabby, purple dragon from his childhood. _I wonder where he went?_ Icarus had disappeared after Cell had arrived, and Gohan had been living from one minute to the next and hadn't honestly realized that his friend was gone, until months had passed without any sign of him. He had looked for him a little bit, but nothing had turned up, so he dropped it and went on with life—or what was left of it by that time. He suddenly realized that Arale was still talking.

"—and the woman was so surprised by the sound that she screamed this hilarious high pitched scream and fell over backwards." She chuckled to herself, still watchful of their surroundings. "And I haven't seen the lady with the dragon since." Gohan smiled politely. Arale shifted to look at him.

"How long have you lived in Satan City?"

"Oh I don't live there; I live on Mount Paozu," he said quietly.

"Oh I think I have heard you say that before! What's it like?"

"Colder than being down here, that's for sure." Arale laughed as the train began to slow.

"Obviously, but what else? It must take you ages to reach Capsule Corporation," she mused. Gohan could have bit his tongue off.

"Not really," he answered vaguely. The train stopped and the pressurized doors swooshed open, ending whatever thoughts Arale had on the subject. Gohan stood and pulled her to her feet and then they disembarked.

"This way," Arale said, nudging his shoulder with her own.

This station was much newer than the first one, but as they stepped out into the sunlight, Gohan realized that the train station was stuffed back into a tall grove of green trees. The landscape past the outside doors was filled to bursting with thick trees and Gohan was tickled to see so many people rushing in and out around him.

"Come on, I live over this way," she said, gesturing to the right of the train station.

"Have you lived here all of your life?" Gohan asked.

"Yes." The girl remained quiet after that, a tense silence around her as she led her Gohan down the street. The village was not very big from what Gohan had seen so far; it also seemed to have a thriving community shopping center. Rather quaint, really.

"Some of the people around here bake the best bread in the _world_," Arale said. She waved her hand in the direction of one of the shops as they passed it.

"Smells great!" Arale smiled.

"Yep it does! We eat bread every day around here, although Mom can't cook to save her life," Arale explained. "We usually eat a bunch of fresh veggies from Dad's garden and some of the other gardens around here. Mom tried to cook when I was younger and I still have nightmares from _that_."

Gohan chuckled. "Can't relate there; my mother can cook great." The teenager paused, his expression thoughtful. "But considering I haven't eaten anyone else's food I can't say she's the best." Gohan followed where his friend led, his eyes and ears taking in everything as they went. The whole village was just so cute!

They turned another corner and walked farther out of the village until they reached a little house that was struggling valiantly. Against long, aggressive, winding vines with beautiful foliage. It wasn't a very large house, closer to a cottage than a full blown house, but it still seemed to be someone's home. Large, full buckets of colorful flowers crowded around the front of the house in glowing rings of happiness. Gohan nearly laughed.

"Wow."

"Mom can't cook, and vegetables that she tries to grow…usually don't, but she can grow flowers perfectly!" She waved her hand at the menagerie of flora in front of the house. As she spoke, the front door swept open and a small woman with deep purple hair appeared in the doorway.

"Arale I thought you would never get home—" she stopped speaking as she caught sight of Gohan, her eyes widening and the already pale skin on her face dipping into ghostly white. And then it flushed as she turned an angry gaze on the girl.

"Mom," Arale rushed forward and took her by the arm. She looked deeply into her mother's eyes, as if begging something. "This is Son Gohan. Remember I told you about him? He works at Capsule Corporation sometimes?" Gohan frowned at the strange greeting; Arale's mother looked furious, but sighed and the expression was gone.

"Mom, this is Son Gohan; Gohan, this is my mother, Reijin Mara." Mara offered a tight smile and nodded her head.

"It is nice to meet you, Gohan," she said softly, giving her daughter a narrow look.

"My pleasure, Ma'am," he said, bowing at the waist respectfully. Mara seemed to take a deep breath before she spoke.

"Would you kids like to come in and—" she stopped and bit her lip. Arale smiled.

"Did you try cooking again, Mom?" Mara raised her chin in the air and spun around.

"No. Well, yes, but…You're father made some cookies earlier just for you. No, I was trying to dry off some…things, and, well…" she stopped speaking as she led the way into the house and both teenagers covered their mouths and noses from the smoke as it billowed out of the house.

"Mom!" Arale shrieked as she ran to the kitchen, leaving Gohan to follow behind. Mara had oven mitts on her hands to protect them from the heat.

"I am sorry, dear, it didn't quite work out as planned," she mused. Arale flapped the kitchen towel at the open oven door, wafting the smoke away as she squinted to look into the oven.

"Is that a shoe?" She asked. Mara bit her lip.

"Well, it said not to put it in a dryer, and I really wanted to wear it tonight." Arale groaned.

"And sunning it outside wasn't an option?" Mara laughed and hugged her.

"You're right of course, dear, but I just didn't think of that before!" Mara ruffled her daughter's hair and moved to the big bunch of windows beside the kitchen table. "It's really no big deal, Arale, I just made a miscalculation; all will be well once we get this smoke out of the house."

Gohan had remained quiet up to that point, but he could not repress the chuckle as it bubbled up—the entire situation was absurd! As Mara struggled with the window, Gohan reached over her shoulder and easily pried it open.

"Thank you," she said, all evidence of the irritation from before gone from her face. "You know, you have picked a bad day to visit: it is not normally this mad about the place." She smiled and rested her left hand on his forearm, smiling apologetically at him. Arale stopped waving the kitchen towel around and plopped down at the kitchen table.

"Let's go sit in the garden, yes?" Mara asked. Gohan tilted his head at her, trying to name her accent, but he did not think he had ever heard it before. Mara handed him a large plate of assorted cookies and nudged him in the direction of the living room just off of the kitchen, and the back door against the farthest wall. She poured three tall glasses of an amber colored liquid and handed two to Arale.

"Gohan, we'll be right out," Mara said. Gohan nodded and did as he was told, weaving his way past neat, well-worn furniture before he exited the house.

The back yard consisted of the most green, colorful bits of botanical life Gohan had ever seen. And living where he did, he saw plenty of beauty; but the garden had been planned and planted to showcase a medley of tall green ferns, lush ivies, and many-petal explosions of color: blue, pink, red, sun yellow, even some of the most lush purples that Gohan had ever seen in nature.

From the doorway, large, flat stones were laid out in a random pattern, creating a patio that stretched a good fifteen feet squared. In the farthest corner was a weather battered, wrought iron table with four chairs and a burnt orange clay container filled with a plant that Gohan did not recognize.

The area was enclosed on two sides by grape arbors, and a on the third by the house, but the forth held a path of the same stone material that lead away, deeper into the tall trees and dashes of bright sunshine where the glorious gatherings of plant life dwelled.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Arale said as she stepped out of the house. Gohan nodded, feeling so completely _peaceful_. Arale set her two glasses on the table and took away the plate of cookies to join them. "Like I said, my mother can't cook, and she can't grow vegetables, but she can grow flowers like no one's business!"

"I _encourage_ them to grow, Arale-darling," Mara said as she joined them. She smiled at Gohan and placed her own glass and the tall pitcher of the same amber liquid on the table along with some folded linen napkins. "They want to grow all on their own—I just help them along with it."

Mara turned to Gohan. "Tell me, Gohan, does your mother grow anything?" Arale took her place at the table and reached for a cookie. She smiled as her mother draped a napkin over her lap and handed one to Gohan as well as he sat.

"She grows vegetables," he replied. "She is actually really good at it. And she can cook really good, too; it's my dad that can't cook to save his life." Mara nodded and nudged the cookies closer.

"And how have you all been dealing with your dad being gone?" She asked. Gohan shrugged, not sure what to say, but the odd way that Arale had stilled caught his attention. She had ceased moving for a moment and just caught and held her mother's gaze.

"_Mom_," she murmured. Mara tilted her head back to look up at the sky and sighed, shaking her head.

"Forgive me, Gohan," she said. "I realize it must be tough for your father to be gone." Arale rolled her eyes and continued eating her cookie, leaving Gohan feeling _very_ confused.

"Um, yeah," he offered, not one hundred percent sure what he was agreeing to. Something odd was going on just under the surface of this conversation…and he wasn't sure why, but it kind of creeped him out just slightly.

Thankfully, the house door opened and emitted a tall man in dark linen pants and a matching long sleeved shirt. He was covered from head to toe in soot, but the worst part was the dangerous, angry expression on his face as his grey eyes latched onto Gohan.

The teenager swallowed nervously as both females jumped to their feet and threw themselves at the stranger.

"Cojack, you've come home early!" Mara said, her tone surprised, but happy. Gohan relaxed minutely, but the man was still eyeing him as Arale leaned in and smiled up at him.

"_Civi, Diszu!_ She said pleasantly. "_Dis-je_," she said, switching to a language Gohan could not understand. "This is Son Gohan; I work with him at Capsule Corporation sometimes—whenever he misbehaves anyway! His family is friends with Bulma."

"Ah," he allowed, his gaze not wavering away from him. Gohan got the distinct impression that this man did not like him very much. Mara had a hand on her husband's forearm, and the smile still remained, but the situation was still just…uncomfortable.

"Cojack," she whispered and then lapsed into whatever language Arale had been speaking a few moments before. It was rapid, but very smooth and easy. Gohan couldn't place it, whatever language it was. Arale returned to her seat as Mara and Cojack disappeared into the house. She snagged another cookie off of the plate.

"Sorry; he's a little over protective of us," Arale offered by way of explanation.

"I don't think he liked me very much," he offered with a laugh. Arale sighed and munched on her cookie.

"No, it's not that. He's just…cautious, I guess you could say. Do you want another one? Daddy's a very good cook!" She pushed the plate toward him, and he lifted another cookie with a shrug.

"Have you lived here your whole life?" he asked. Arale nodded.

"Always. It's been an awesome place to grow up; the community is very tight and most of the people here have only ever lived here. It does make it hard to have much fun in the village, though, because everyone knows me and where I am supposed to be." She smiled ruefully. She eyed the bandage around his hand.

"You know, we should really change the dressing on that; it looks as if it has bled more." Gohan glanced at his hand and made a face at the red seeping through the bandage.

"Nah," he said. "It will be fine." Arale narrowed her eyes at him but shrugged.

"Have it your way." She took a sip of her drink, which Gohan had forgotten about. Tentatively, he sipped his own drink and was delighted to find it was iced tea with a strong fruit flavor, although it was not very sweet. And there were green leaves in his tea.

"It's mint," Arale offered, chuckling at the dubious look on his face. "A woman about a mile down the road makes this and brings it to us; she sells it in the village."

"It's really good!"

"I'll be sure and let her know that you like it!" The house door opened again and Arale's parents returned, her father's face less furious but still extremely cautious as he settled beside Mara.

"Gohan," Cojack began, his voice softer than it had been before. "Arale has mentioned that you work in the lab with her at times?" The teenager was momentarily stumbled by the abrupt turnaround in the man's demeanor, but nodded his head to try not to show it.

"Yes, Sir," he said. "Bulma has been friends with my family for years and offered to let me work in the lab for experience—"

"And as a tool for punishment whenever he misbehaves," Arale added smugly. Gohan shook his head with a chuckle.

"You really enjoy that don't you?" He asked. Arale smiled and shrugged.

"Who else could claim to be punished by being forced to assist one of the most intelligent women of our time invent wondrous inventions?" Cojack grunted, but allowed a smile for his daughter. Gohan groaned.

"Only you would see being her slave labor as glamorous!" Arale laughed and shrugged her right shoulder. Mara happily munched on a cookie.

A few hours later, Gohan walked to the station. Arale's parents had been entertaining, but as the sun began to drift down, he remembered that he was supposed to be babysitting…sort of. Arale was also interesting… something about her was different, although the demi-Saiyajin couldn't figure out what it was.

As he reached the station, Gohan avoided the actual station and the people bustling about it, and darted to the side and then around behind. He glanced around him to be sure there were no spectators before he lifted quickly into the air. Once he gained altitude, he sped away from the little village and back toward Satan City and Capsule Corporation.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"So lay down, the threat is real"

_-The Red, _Chevelle

Goten sat, his arms crossed tightly across his chest, his bottom lip firmly poofed out. Gohan, who flew along side the cloud where the little boy sat with Bird's slim arms wrapped around him. Full on pout coloring his face.

"You know you can't stay with Trunks all the time, Saru," Gohan said, his dark eyes darting to the side. Goten huffed and tucked his arms closer to his body, not impressed with the orange and red lights as the sun descended.

"I am sure that we can go back and visit soon," Bird whispered to the little boy.

"I wanted to stay there tonight!" He sniffled.

"Yeah, but we had to head home, you know?" Goten sniffled again and then brightened.

"Hey! I learned something today!"

"Oh yeah?" Gohan asked. "What's that?"

"We are Say Agains!" Bird choked and delicately covered her mouth.

"What is that?" She asked. Goten gave her a tolerant look.

"You know, _Say Agains_!" He said again. Gohan and Bird shared a look.

"You mean Saiyajin?" Gohan asked, trying to still his chuckles. Goten nodded, proud.

"Yes! Thas what I said! Say Agains!" Gohan could not contain the laugh that escaped, earning a disappointed look from his little brother.

"Well," said Bird, "that's nice, but didn't you already know that?" Goten tilted his head to the side.

"Yeah, but Gohan can't talk like Uncle Vegeta!" Gohan eyed him.

"How's that?" He asked. Goten rubbed his nose with the back of his right hand.

"You know, the way Say Agains talk," the little boy elaborated, yawning. "Trunks said Uncle Vegeta taught him a new word! It's _Diszu_!"

"Ah," Gohan said. "And did he tell you what it means?"

"_Father!_" Goten said happily, a sleepy smile beginning to creep across his lips. "I can't wait to tell Daddy."

"What did you and Trunks get into while I was gone?" Gohan asked. Goten grinned.

"We played with Uncle Vegeta." He leaned back against Bird, cuddling into her arms, a mischievous look on his face.

"And how did you 'play' with Vegeta?" Gohan felt dread slowly fill his belly as their mountain home bloomed from among the trees. Funny, but their once tiny capsule home had grown to be a sprawling home on the mountain since his father had returned and Bird had joined them.

"Well," the little boy began as they descended. Gohan landed and then lifted Goten down, followed by Bird. "Trunks sneakeded some ink stuff from Bulma's shop."

Gohan paused and stared at the boy with wide eyes. "And?"

"Well, Trunks wanted to put it in Uncle Vegeta's shoes," he said as they trudged for the door. "But, I said no."

"That's good," Gohan said, relieved.

"So we put it on his gi." Gohan stopped and looked back at his little brother as they walked into the house.

"Was it at least dirty?" he asked. Bird trailed into the house behind the brothers, a ghost of a smile on her lips at the conversation.

"Nope," said the mischief maker. "He was takin' a nap and Trunks was real good and poured it on him!" The little boy grinned such a grin that Gohan shook his head. They were all dead very soon.

"Hi guys!" Chichi greeted from where she sat in her chair. Goku came out of the kitchen, a cup in his hand.

"There you are!" Goku greeted. "I thought I would have to go looking for you." The three children trailed into the living room, shucking their lightweight coats as they went. Gohan collected their coats while Bird settled down in the chair across from Chichi.

Gohan eyed his mother as he returned from putting coats away. Chichi's color was still off, but she looked well enough. Still, something about her appearance bothered the teenager, although he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Are you feeling ok, Mom?" he asked. Chichi turned the warm cup around in her hands a few times, sharing a conspirator's look with Goku as he settled down beside her.

"Actually, there was something that we were hoping to talk to you all about; that's why I am up," she admitted. Goku brushed his fingers down the back of her hand holding the cup.

"I made some soup for dinner, but does anyone want something warm to drink, some tea or hot chocolate?" Goten hopped up and jumped up and down in front of his Daddy.

"Me! Me!" He shouted.

"Goten," Chichi chided. "Calm down and come here; tell me what you did today! I missed you." The little boy obliged, scrambling up into her lap. Goku smiled and turned to the two teenagers.

"Do you want something to drink?" Gohan glanced at Bird, who shook her head and leaned to the side, resting her head on her arm.

"I'm good," Gohan said.

"I'm hungry," Goten said. Chichi laughed.

"Of course you are," she laughed. "But first, what do you mean you put ink on Vegeta's clothes?" Goten rubbed his eyes, the sleepies returning full force.

"Well, Trunks was gunna put it in his shoes…and I said we could put it on his clothes," the little boy admitted. Chichi shook her head.

"Oh that was not a good idea, Goten; that's not nice at all!"

"What about what you found out today, Goten?" Gohan asked. "About what we are? And that word that you learned?"

"We're Say Agains!" the boy crowed, so proud of himself. Goku's face split into a Son grin and laughed, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

"You're right!" His father replied, reaching over to ruffle the boy's hair.

"And what word is it that you learned?" Chichi asked him.

"_Diszu!_" The little boy said happily. "It means 'father.'" Gohan cocked his head to the side, that word bothering him again. Bird cracked open her eyes, the pale blue orbs gravitating toward the teenager. Her expression was curious, but Gohan shook his head.

"Well, isn't that nice," Chichi said, covering her yawn with a delicate hand. She glanced to the side to where Goku was.

"I think we should feed these munchkins and get them tucked into bed; I am tired, and I can't imagine how they must be feeling." Goku nodded.

"But first," Gohan's mother said, cuddling Goten closer and kissing his cheek. A sparkle had entered her eyes, and Gohan was automatically curious at the cause. "We have something to tell you…all of you."

Goten sat up and looked at his mother, the two teenagers respectfully following suit.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Gohan asked again, feeling worry edge into his gut. Chichi smiled and nodded her head, glancing at Goku. Again, Gohan felt oddness in his father's expression: unfathomable.

"I'm fine, Sweet heart," she replied. "But, I am not going to get better for a few more weeks; I'm pregnant."

Silence reigned in the room for what seemed like a handful of minutes before Gohan—or anyone else—could respond.

"Congratulations," Bird said softly, rising and dropping down beside Chichi, grasping her hand. Her expression was one of wonder.

Gohan was still speechless.

"What does 'per egg nant' mean?" Goten asked, stumbling over the large word. Bird pat his back gently, a large smile on her face.

"It means you're going to be a big brother!" Goku explained patiently. "Mom is going to have another baby!"

Gohan was still speechless. Vision of a previous birth announcement filled his thoughts. His mother was not as happy then as she was this time; his father made all the difference, he supposed. Gohan remembered the nights of listening to his mother cry.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories. A hand rested suddenly on his shoulder surprised him. Goku frowned, his dark eyes tinged with concern.

"Are you okay, son?" He asked. Gohan blinked, still in shock, before the slow smile built across his face.

"Are you serious?" he asked, eyeing his father and then his mother. Chichi smiled and nodded ruefully.

"Yes, Gohan, I would know, seeing as how this will be the third time," she replied drily. "I am positive." Goten still had an odd look on his face.

"But, if that means you havin' a baby, where is it?" Bird colored and rose to her feet.

"I think I am going to dish up the soup," she said, heading for the kitchen. Gohan kissed his mother on the cheek, allowed his father to hug him, and stepped quickly after his friend; he really didn't want to be a part of the coming conversation.

DBZ

The darkness was _moving_ around him.

Gohan jumped to wakefulness, something sending his pulse thudding quickly away with him. He sat up in his bed and gulped in several lungs full of air, trying to both quiet his breathing and calm his erratically pounding heart. The chill on his shoulders did nothing to sooth him, neither did the full alert feeling he had.

Something was _wrong_.

He swung his legs over the edge of his bed, intent on doing something he had not done in years: dive into his parent's room for comfort and protection. But a quick glance toward his window scared him three shades of yellow.

A man's form was crawling through his window.

And before he could utter a sound, the man was on him, pinning him and covering his mouth with something sticky, effectively silencing him. With his thoughts racing, he realized that he was still wearing the Energy Block, but as the man's hands pinned his arms above his head, and pinned the rest of him with his own body, his face came into the moon light.

It was the scarred man.

_**What do you WANT?**_ Gohan sent that thought as loudly and obnoxiously as he could, and was satisfied when the man flinched. He captured both of Gohan's wrists in his own and lifted a single finger to his lips in a show of silence.

_**You have to be quiet, Gohan.**_ He said in the demi-Saiyajin's mind. Gohan closed his eyes, so frightened that he feared for his heart. He was trembling from head to toe, but after a few deep breaths—through his nose—he was more calm and clear in thought.

_**What do you want?**_ He asked again. His captor wrapped a thin metal wire around his wrists, effectively binding them. Gohan flexed his wrists, trying to loosen the wire enough to get it off, but gasped at the sharp pain that flared in his wrists and hands.

The man stood, draped Gohan over his shoulder and leaped from the window, apparently in the nick of time as Bird's scream followed them into the darkness. Gohan twisted, and kicked, trying to kick the man in the face, but no matter what he did, his captor would not so much as slow down.

Fear gripped Gohan as he watched his mountain home become a distant speck. The lights flared on in the house and he heard his father's voice calling him, and even saw his father's shadow as it leapt to follow before he blinked and they were in another location.

His kidnapper flew through several bunches of tall, fat, odd looking trees before he entered a cavernous cave and flew slowly to the back of the rock cave. Water trickled somewhere, but Gohan couldn't see the source until the scarred man dumped him on the ground in a side cavern that seemed to lead out to another exit. The ceiling was so low that the man had to duck and drag Gohan back until he was hidden at the back of the cave. Gohan whimpered again as the restraints bit into his wrists.

"Sorry for that," the man said. His father's look alike gestured toward the binding around the teenager's wrists. He sat down across from Gohan and pick up a square, flat piece of what looked to be something metallic in the shape of a large, square dinner plate. The teenager had the chance to look around himself, and noticed what looked like gear. Apparently, his kidnapper had been living in the cave for a while.

"But I couldn't risk you not cooperating," the man said softly. His fingers moved swiftly over the face of the metal plate, his dark eyes and scarred face revealing no emotion.

"MmmmMmMmm!" Gohan said, starting to feel the fear taper off some. His captor glanced up at him, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you it's wrong to speak with your mouth full?" He moved forward and grasped the teenager by the upper arm with his right hand and peeled the sticky tape from his mouth with the other.

"What do you want from me this time?" The teenager yelled, his lips stinging from the tape's removal. He lifted his bound wrists and scrubbed at the numbed feeling on his lips. His captor scooted back and lifted what appeared to be one sided ear phones and placed the thin box on his right ear. With a swish, a blue light slipped out of the ear piece and swung forward to cover his eye, reminding Gohan strongly of the radar-like things that Vegeta and his ilk used when he first met them.

"Hush," the man said firmly. Gohan settled back against the rock, fuming as the man moved his fingers deftly over the metallic plate in his hands. "I am trying to track their movement."

"Whose?" Gohan asked, frowning in irritated confusion. The man shushed him again, making Gohan wish he could reach out and touch the man.

After a few more moments, his father's twin set the plate to the side and eyed the teenager through the blue light of the ear piece.

"Well now," he murmured, touching the ear piece and collapsing the blue screen. "What have you learned thus far? Did you do anything I told you to do?"

"What was that?" Gohan asked, his fingers twitching as they had begun to go numb. He gasped as he tried to gently move his hands. The wire was biting deeply into the flesh around his wrists, and had broken the skin in a few places, allowing deep crimson beads to sluggishly bleed from the wound. Gohan gaped at the sight, enthralled. His mouth was suddenly dry and his heart thumped against his sternum as a droplet beaded up enough to drip slowly down the back of his hand.

"Gohan." The teenager jerked and raised his eyes, meeting the dark ones of his captor. The man was frowning, his black eyes calculating and dissecting the teenager in a way that reminded him of Piccolo. He dropped his eyes away, uncomfortable and mildly confused.

"What have you learned of the Blaque Stone?" The teenager raised his eyes as the man crept toward him again, grasping his hands and pulling them back toward himself. He swore under his breath and turned to dig into a bag behind him.

"Who are you?" Gohan asked, trying to ignore the deep throbbing sting in his wrists. The man turned back to him with wire cutters in his hand. He paused and dropped his head to capture Gohan's gaze, straightening.

"If I cut these off, will you be good?" He asked. Gohan blinked in surprised, but nodded after only a slight hesitation.

"I'll have words, Gohan," the man growled. Gohan glared at him, bothered by the man's attitude. Gohan gasped as his kidnapper shook his hands gently, the jarring causing the wire to dig deeper into his skin. "I can leave you bound, if that is your wish, child, it makes no difference to me; but I will have your words."

"Yes," he gasped. "Yes, I will be good." The man nodded and lifted the teen's hands gently before snipping the wire and gently pulling it free of Gohan's skin. Gohan sighed in relief and brought them up to inspect the damage.

"Thank you," he whispered. His captor tugged his hands back towards him and sprayed white foam on the wounds from a small silver can. The cuts burned and stung, but it felt good: slightly like scratching an itch.

"To answer your question, my name is Bardock."

"Bardock," the teenager whispered to himself.

"What have you learned of the Blaque Stone?" Bardock asked again.

"Not much," Gohan sighed, accepting the clean bit of clothe the man offered him to wipe up the excess foam. "I have tried, but there isn't much information out there."

"No, there isn't. But what have you found?" Gohan eyed Bardock.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, feeling tired. "What does it matter to you?"

"Don't be disrespectful," Bardock said firmly, pinning Gohan with a look. Gohan rolled his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hands, eyeing the inside of the cave and trying to discover a way out.

"If you try and run off, I will tie you up again, but this time, I will wrap your ankles as well," Bardock chuckled, his eyes expressing his excitement at the challenge. Gohan groaned and leaned backwards against the rock.

"Those who had you last time are desperate to find the Blaque Stone," Bardock explained. "They will stop at nothing to get it." Gohan leaned forward again and tugged his shirt down in the back, covering his goose bumped flesh.

"Uh, forgive me, but _you_ had me last time," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not at first," the man admitted softly, catching Gohan's attention.

"What do you mean? I was there, remember? I saw you! And I still remember what happened there!" Bardock shook his head, leveling his eyes at Gohan.

"I did not do those things to you, Gohan, any more than your father did," the older man explained quietly. Gohan look away and scrubbed roughly at his arms, the chill of the cave sinking in to him. Bardock leaned over and grabbed a roll of material and lobbed it at the teenager, smacking him square in the chest.

"Cover up before your teeth chatter out of your head," he said. Gohan shook out the blanket and curled it around his shoulders, surprised at the way the blanket seemed to capture his warmth and magnify it. In a matter of minutes his chills were nearly gone.

"What have you discovered about the Blaque Stone?" his captor repeated.

"Not much," Gohan sighed. Bardock settled back against the opposite wall and stretched his left leg out straight before him, wincing. "Just that it can affect its host's attitude, and that there is not much known about it." Bardock nodded.

"Do you know where it is?" Gohan narrowed his eyes at the man, mistrustful.

"You said yourself that I didn't have it," the teenager snapped. Bardock chuckled.

"I said what I had to for my own reasons, but don't let's pretend that we both don't know that you have it," he retorted quickly. Gohan swallowed and glared at the man, who cocked his head to the side.

"Again, why should I tell you anything?" The teenager snapped. Bardock narrowed his eyes, shot his hand out, and snatched away the blanket from the teenager's grip. Gohan gasped in the cold, and felt a thrill of terror as the man loomed over him.

"Because I am the only one here to protect you; because I know how to protect you; and because you don't have a choice!" He snarled, pushing right up into Gohan's space. Gohan's breath caught in his chest at the close proximity between them. Every scar that crossed the man's face was deeply etched, more exaggerated lines than previous damage, but for the tale-tale red edges to them.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked. Bardock allowed a tolerant, grim smile as he tossed the blanket back at him, and leaned back against the wall.

"I believe we have covered that."

"Only slightly." Gohan tugged the blanket back up around him, thrilled to have the warmth back. "I am not answering any more of your questions until you start answering mine." Bardock eyed him, his dark eyes narrowed, and the curve of his mouth turned downward. He leaned back against the course rock at his spine, his gaze never wavering. For a moment, his gaze turned inward, his expression blank.

"Fair enough," Bardock whispered, his sight still far away. Gohan watched him, curious.

"I was a lowly warrior," Bardock said, his voice so low that Gohan barely heard him at first. "I was a good warrior; good fighting stock." He paused and his gaze sharpened back onto Gohan, coming back into focus.

"Your father was an infant when he was sent to earth, so he would not remember anything; and I am positive that the Prince would never tell you of our culture, but the Saiyajin were a proud race; strong. We are naturally combative and aggressive; some would say quick and cunning although those descriptions did not apply to as many as some would have believed." Here Bardock smirked, his face brightening as he recalled something only he could see.

"Nappa was a perfect example of that," Gohan muttered darkly, drawing Bardock's attention.

"Yes. Nappa was…'hired muscle' I suppose you could say." Gohan seemed surprised at the matter-of-fact way in which his captor spoke. He glanced down at the sores on his wrists, flexing his hands and testing the sturdiness of the heeling flesh there. The blood was diluted by the foam that Bardock had sprayed on him, taking on the appearance of frosted pink cream. He wondered what it was that made an entire race of people throw around their children like the Saiyajin tossed infants like his father.

"But we're not talking about Nappa," Bardock said dryly, his eyes far away again. "One thing I have learned in my travels is to appreciate the culture of the various peoples I have run across; not destroy it." His expression was grim and set; anger nearly chiseled into the lines of his face.

"It is well known that the Saiyajin race is destructive, but the awful truth of it is that it's a lie; the Saiyajin have always had enormous ability for power and a good, strong thirst for it, too, but we were not always destructive.

"We had our own way of things," he whispered. Gohan couldn't help himself, he was interested in what the man was saying; he felt drawn into the story despite himself.

"We married, had children and worked just as you do here," he said softly, his dark eyes pinning Gohan. "But where you have lived and fought only on this planet, we moved and fought and over took other planets. We would conquer a people—especially a people who were too weak to fight off others—and make them a colony under Saiyajin rule. When I was a boy, I can remember the stories of my parents who had each gone off at different times to overcome planets and peoples in the name of expanding the Saiyajin rule."

"So the Saiyajin really are the bullies of the galaxies," Gohan commented. "That's _awesome_!—note the sarcasm used." Irritated, the teenager rubbed the back of his neck. His captor shook his head.

"Different times, different places, child," he said. "The Saiyajin people saw it as a way to universally protect the weak from foreign invaders, and for the most part, it worked—at least, back when the Saiyajin Kings were ruling and taught to respect the people they had conquered. Prince Vegeta's grandfather died when Vegeta's father, Vegen, was young. Freiza had wormed his way into the King's court and was very influential to Vegen. Freiza was conniving and dangerous and indoctrinated Vegen with ideas of grandeur, telling him that the Saiyajin were too powerful, and too mighty to be forced to allow people the right to serve any but the King of the Saiyajin."

"Isn't that what the Saiyajin thought anyways?"

"No. The Saiyajin would conquer and then leave a loose militia to defend the planet from other dangers; any abuse to the current inhabitants or to their way of life was strictly enforced. That's not to say it didn't happen from time to time, but it was dealt with forcefully. The only thing they were forced to do was pay a stipend to the Saiyajin nation once a year—rather similar to the organized crime in some places here; the organization in charge will protect all under their care, but those under their care must pay a fee."

"So, the Saiyajin weren't bad, they were just like the mob…that makes sense. Again, notice the sarcasm." Bardock narrowed his eyes and leaned toward the teenager menacingly.

"If you cannot keep your mouth shut I will help you," he threatened. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"I thought it was a conversation we were having, not an oration." Bardock tilted his head to the side and eyed him, a flash of something in his eyes that Gohan couldn't name. It made him slightly nervous.

"We can have a conversation, but you will behave and remain respectful or I will tape your mouth closed after a proper beating." Gohan raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the threat. He nodded his assent and his kidnapper continued.

"The fee was never too hefty; a trifle, really, in return, the Saiyajin protected the people, and the people learned to love the King and the Saiyajin, although very few changes were ever made to their own cultures. It wasn't bad. But Freiza changed all of that. He was power hungry and insane and turned Vegen into the same. They demanded that all Saiyajin babies born were to be handed over to the nursery and would be sent off to the planets of choice for complete annihilation, and any who had an issue with this arrangement were found destroyed mysteriously." Bardock's expression was one of total stillness; he was completely blank, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Gohan felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle slightly at the expression and his face paled at the meaning behind it.

"Someone had an issue with it," Gohan said, for some reason dreading the answer. Bardock turned his dark, expressionless eyes to Gohan, and for just a moment, the teenager felt caught in a memory that wasn't his. A woman, with the darkest hair he had ever seen—it was more than just black, it seemed to shimmer blue—with a round face and sharp, intelligent eyes. And then it was gone, and Gohan gasped, blinking as his captor continued.

"Many had issue with it, and many died as examples to the masses of what would happen if you took issue publicly. Chaeri took issue with it. She was expecting our second child." Gohan felt stunned, and unable to utter a word as the man across from him continued.

"Saiyajin are naturally aggressive, Gohan, so as infants and children, they have the normal inhibitions of youth, but it is compounded by the Saiyajin traits. Being a parent to a full Saiyajin child can be exciting, to say the least. Thus, Freiza's plan to send them off-world to conquer other planets was genius and evil all in one." Bardock stretched out, the deadness mostly gone from his expression. "So many lost their lives to that fight, that many chose to go off planet themselves, especially when Freiza began to destroy the beings that we shared our planet with, the Tuffles.

"You see, the Saiyajin' home planet was barren and could not contain life any longer, but our scientists were working on a rehabilitation plan for it, along with the Tuffles. While it was happening, the Tuffles offered their home to us with the understanding that we stayed on our side of it. Freiza decided to do as he wished and destroyed them. And eventually, he destroyed that entire planet and everyone on it. So many were lost." Bardock raised his dark eyes to Gohan again, meeting them.

"Including me," he said.

"What?" Gohan said, shock written on his face.

"I was there, leading my men against Freiza, trying to save the Prince, but Frieza had killed Vegen and sent Vegeta and his guard Napa away. Freiza was much, much too powerful for us and destroyed the whole planet and all who had gathered to defeat him."

"You died?" Gohan asked, incredulous.

"No, but not from lack of trying," Bardock continued. "I was floating through space, badly wounded, when a strange ship intercepted me; that same ship that you were prisoner on, actually."

Now completely confused, Gohan just stared at the man before him, but before he could utter a word, a thin bell sound dinged from the ear piece Bardock had used earlier. His jailer snatched the metallic plate up from the cave floor beside him and placed the ear piece back on his ear, quickly activating the eye piece. He swore in a language that Gohan didn't—and was grateful he didn't—know and rolled to his knees, shoved the metallic plate into a pack along with a few other things, and beckoned to Gohan.

"They are close by, Gohan," he whispered. "You must be very quiet or they will find you."

"Who?" the teenager enquired. The muscles in his neck and back tensed and subconsciously readied themselves for a fight. "If it's my dad or my friends, you know I won't be quiet."

Bardock chuckled. "Yes, I know that very well about you, Gohan, but it isn't your family, it's those who want you for themselves." Gohan blinked.

"That sounded…disturbing," he retorted. Bardock's lips curled into a smirk.

"Don't let it go to your head; what they want you for will not be enjoyable on your part." Gohan made a face, but couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck to color his cheeks. _Dang it, stupid blood rushing caused by slight embarrassment!_

Bardock took Gohan's left arm tightly in his grip and laid a finger against his lips, warning him into silence. They were squatted down in a random cave somewhere, hiding from someone that wanted to kill him. _Yup, this is my life_, he thought dryly.

Bardock eyed him, but they both remained quiet. Bardock tugged the metallic plate out of the bag and tipped it to where he could place his fingers against some of the keys with various, alien markings.

"They are almost over us," Bardock breathed, his muscular frame tensed from where he knelt beside Gohan. Another expletive hissed from Bardock's lips directly before a massive explosion near by tossed them around, shrieking down around them, and upending Gohan's world.

Once the stars had cleared, Gohan found himself lying face down on the ground a few feet away from where he had been, with many shards of rock pressing into his chest and belly. His ears were ringing and a thin film of dust hung in the air, obscuring his view. He coughed and pushed up onto his knees, shaking his head and brushing the dirt and pebbles from his clothes. He turned and glanced behind him, his senses still ringing from the explosion.

"Bardock?" he croaked. Something warm dripped into his left eye, but he swiped it away, ignoring the maroon smear on the back of his hand. "Bardock?"

Hands clamped down on his mouth and chest from behind him, startling him. In a response born of being drilled by his father and Piccolo both, he shoved his left elbow quickly behind him, connecting with flesh.

_**Easy, they're still looking for us.**_ Bardock's voice whispered in his mind.

Gohan stilled, but shook his head. Bardock released his mouth, instead, he dropped his hand to Gohan shoulder, keeping him still.

They sat there, barely breathing, until Bardock began to relax his hold on the teenager. It felt like time had slowed in respect of the silence and stillness they were holding, but after nearly ten minutes, Bardock relaxed.

"They're gone," he said. Gohan rounded on him.

"What the crap was that?" Bardock scrubbed his hands through his hair, dislodging dirt and debris as he took in their tattered surroundings.

"They are looking for you," he said. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I've got that, but why did they attack when they weren't even sure we were here?" Bardock paused.

"They are _desperately_ looking for you," he amended, flashing a grin at the teenager. Gohan moaned and smacked his forehead with his hand, wincing when he encountered the wound there.

"Ouch," he muttered, fingering the slowly oozing cut above his left eyebrow. Bardock caught his hand, stilling its roving.

"Stop it, you're getting blood everywhere." Digging in his pack, he pulled out the canister of spray foam and a clean bit of material. With one swipe, he dashed the fresh blood from the cut and then sprayed it quickly with the foam, ending the bleeding. The stinging this time, was enough to make Gohan's eyes water.

"What is that stuff?" he asked. His kidnapper tossed it back into the pack and quickly gathered a few more things.

"Driscal Foam," was the short reply. "Works great. Let's go." He began to creep from what was left of their cave, nearly crawling to get past some of the fallen bits of collapsed rock.

"Where are we going now?" Gohan said, beginning to feel nervous again. He was, afterall, kidnapped. And instead of actively trying to get away from said kidnapper, he was making conversation with the man. _Nice going, bone head!_

"Away from here," the Saiyajin replied. Gohan followed, albeit grudgingly.

"You know, my dad could help."

"No." Gohan stopped and narrowed his eyes, watching the alien warrior lead the way through a narrow pathway of barely lit rocks.

"Why not?" He demanded, sounding every bit as disgruntled and petulant as he probably looked at that moment. Bardock stopped and turned to face him, his face unreadable.

"Because." Gohan rolled his eyes.

"Wow," he muttered. "Is that the pat response of all adults that want mindless obedience?" Bardock's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I wouldn't know, and frankly do not care," he retorted. "But know this, little Saiyajin, I will have your obedience one way or another; and I would rather not have to carry your butt through this cave over my shoulder."

"Look, you don't seem to be trying to currently hurt me, but I don't see the point in following you willingly if you will not allow me to contact my father. He's my dad; he will help keep me safe and away from them."

"No." Gohan threw up his hands.

"Then I guess you just have to carry me!" Bardock turned and pinned him with a very dangerous, predatory gleam in his eyes and a feral look on his face. He stepped within a foot of Gohan's face and loomed over him.

"You will do what I have told you to do or I will make you," he said quietly. His face, along with the timber of his voice was enough to make Gohan's heart skip a beat.

"Don't do that," he said quietly. Bardock tilted his head to the side.

"Act like you did in the ship," Gohan clarified. The older Saiyajin smirked.

"Then do what I tell you to do." Gohan noticed that he hadn't refuted the claim this time. Although he was scared, and fear was crawling up his neck like a spider climbing a web, the teenager stood still, willing the fear to crawl away.

"I won't. Not until you tell me why we can't go to my dad." Bardock was quiet for a moment.

"Because if you go to him, you will place him in danger," the Saiyajin responded. "The same is true of any of your friends and family on this planet; they will stop at nothing to get you, Gohan. _Nothing._"

"But, they have to already know who my family and friend are, what keeps them from hurting them anyways?"

"Goku is a force to be reckoned with, as are any of them, so unless they have to, they will not outright attack them. They want you, Gohan, not your family."

"And what if they get me?" Gohan asked quietly. "What will happen then?" Bardock stepped back.

"To you or them?" Gohan swallowed and licked his lips.

"Both."

"They want the stone, Gohan, and they will do whatever it takes to have it in their possession. Since it is _a part_ of you, they will do whatever it takes to keep you willingly in their possession." Bardock's voice was harsh, but Gohan felt a thrill of terror at the honesty that he felt coming from the man. He knew that Bardock was telling him the truth; it's what he would do if he were an evil bunch of aliens greedy for power and control.

"And my friends and family?" He asked, knowing the answer. Bardock turned back to the darkened pathway and tossed the reply over his shoulder.

"They will either die or become slaves." Gohan winced and looked at the floor of the cave.

"What is your plan, then?" He asked, stopping the man in his tracks. "What is it that you will do that is so much better and different than my father?" Again, a strange light flickered into the man's eyes but was gone in a heartbeat.

"I," he began, "will ask you to trust me and follow me and do what I tell you to do." Gohan snorted.

"You're off to a fabulous start," he retorted, rubbing his left wrist with his right hand. Bardock remained silent, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light as he watched Gohan.

Gohan rubbed his wrist and thought, trying to organize his thoughts into some semblance of making sense. He didn't want to be a mindless killer. He didn't want that for his family or anyone else he knew, either. He wanted freedom and the chance to just be a kid for once. He wanted his family to be safe.

And he had the very strong feeling that he should trust this strange warrior with his father's looks.

He brought his gaze back up to meet the older warrior's and sighed deeply before he gestured with a flap of his hand for him to continue leading the way.

_My dad is going to beat me senseless for this…not to mention what MOM will do._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"The world ain't fair, eat you if you let it."

-Korn, _Twisted Transistor_

Bardock lead them to a shallow stream to the rear of the crop of large boulders that made up the mini mountain where their cave was. Here, he paused and filled two soft skinned flasks with the quickly rushing water. Gohan leaned down near him and used his hands to scoop the water up and splash is face and rinse the grime and blood from his hands before he drank deeply. The water was chilly and crisp, and refreshed him. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was.

"Why are you here and not with the others on the ship?" He asked. Bardock jabbed the topper back into the second flask before he plunged his own hands into the water and scrubbed the grime away. He was quiet for a few moments as he watched the water wash away all of the nasty on his hands.

"Because I disagree with them," he said simply. He splashed the water on his face and drank his fill before he continued, shaking the water from his face and hair and from the tips of his fingers.

"We were sent to find the stone, that much is true, and I am fine with finding the stone, but I believe we were sent under false pretenses." Gohan tilted his head to the side.

"What do you mean?" Bardock shook his head again, sending a shower of the cold water in all directions before he glanced at the teenager again.

"Maybe I should finish my story from earlier," he said thoughtfully. He beckoned for Gohan and lead them away from the stream and toward a clearing.

Gohan felt a sudden tug on his subconscious and stopped, responding to the familiar tug with everything he had. He looked off to their right, across a vast landscape, and searched for the familiar figure of his mentor.

"No." As suddenly as it began, the tug was gone and Gohan was on his hands and knees, gasping at the sudden, violent wrenching away. With his whole body trembling, Gohan raised his head to look up at the Saiyajin warrior. Bardock met his eyes unemotionally.

"You can't let them find you," he said forcefully. His expression was fierce and for a moment he stood over Gohan before he offered him a hand up.

"That was Piccolo," Gohan said, embarrassed when his voice cracked. Bardock pulled him to his feet, and Gohan quickly moved away from him, feeling raw for some reason.

"What did you do?" He asked.

"Blocked him," Bardock replied. "I do not have time for this, but if you will let me, I can help you deal with this." Gohan shook his head violently.

"No!" He shouted, slashing his right hand through the air. "I do not want your help!"

"Then get yourself under control; we need to leave here." Gohan straightened to his full height and took a full, deep breath, trying to find his center. When he opened his eyes, he felt much more grounded and prepared to face the situation.

"We need to get out of here; Piccolo will find me," he said flatly.

"No, he won't," Bardock replied. But he gestured to the distant forest and leaped down from the rocks, landing firmly on the ground a couple feet below.

"How do you know that?"

"I have you blocked right now," was the reply. Gohan frowned, but followed after his kidnapper obediently.

"So, what happened after the ship rescued you," Gohan asked. Bardock tugged on the pack and settled it higher on his shoulder. The air where they were was cooler, similar to what it was like on his mountain home. It was really invigorating to walk in it.

"I was nearly dead, but she healed me." Gohan blinked.

"Who?"

"_Le Fetcha_," he replied. "It means 'The Murdered.'"

"What? Speak my language, maybe?" Bardock reached out and smacked the back of Gohan's head. Gohan yelped and rubbed the spot, flashing an ugly face at the man.

"In the Saiyajin language, _Le Fetcha_ means 'the murdered.'" Gohan made a face.

"So, you were saved by the murdered?" He asked, incredulous. He could not help the feeling that maybe he had tripped over his imaginary friend and plunged head first into the bunny hole and was currently on his way to see the angry red Queen of Hearts. "Makes lots of sense."

"Would you stop it? I will tell you what I do know and help you to understand, but you have to shut up and _listen_ first!" Bardock had turned suddenly and jabbed his first two fingers of his right hand into Gohan's sternum.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I will suspend my disbelief long enough for you to tell your story." Bardock gave him a look that screamed violence, but he swung round and returned to quickly walking in the direction of the forest.

"She is called that, but no one truly knows what her name is; she has changed so much since her beginnings. She is nearly immortal, like others of her kind, but as she is the last of her kind, this knowledge has passed into legend." Bardock stopped suddenly and look up at the sky, his stance putting Gohan on guard.

"Down!" The older man hissed at him, yanking him into the dirt and shaking out a thin silver blanket before tossing it over them both. Gohan froze where he was, slumped over and huddled beside the other Saiyajin. Through the fabric above him, he could see the odd dislodged shape of the ship in the sky, slowly edging back into view from the crop of boulders.

"They're not giving up, are they?" Gohan whispered. But as quickly as the ship appeared, it shot straight up into the sky and took off toward the east. Bardock sat for an extra two minutes before he would allow Gohan to move.

"So what does the blanket do?" he asked.

"Camouflage," was the clipped response.

"It's time to get out of here," Bardock said firmly, concern edging his expression. His eyebrows were drawn together in the center, low over calculating dark eyes. Something had him unsettled.

Curious, Gohan watched the man as he shoved the sheeting material back into his pack, snatched his left wrist, and flew them for the relative safety of the trees.

DBZ

"That is _not_ going to happen," he teenager griped, his expression filled with disdain. He crossed his arms and gave the elder Saiyajin his best 'think again' look.

It had been two days since his kidnapping—he fondly referred to it as the Great Vacation in Wonderland—and so far, things had not improved by much. They had not encountered the ship since that day, and had seen nothing else out of the ordinary, although there had been several times when Piccolo had been close enough that Bardock had been reduced to physical restraint. Once—that morning—his father had flown down close enough to their hidden jungle cave that Bardock had _sat_ on him and pinned his mouth closed with both hands.

The current fuss was begun innocently enough, by Bardock leading him to a short waterfall that collected into a deep green pond.

"It is," Bardock retorted quickly, eyeing the teenager dangerously. He sat on a large rock, pulling off his under shirt. With a dull thunk, he added it to the pile of other cast off clothing and armour and stood in nothing but the equivalent of Saiyajin boxer shorts. Gohan looked sickly at the pond and shook his head.

"Not on your life," he snapped. Bardock rolled his eyes.

"Don't be a child," he growled, advancing on the teenager. "You stink and I refuse to smell you any longer." Gohan dodged.

"I am a child!" He threw over his shoulder as he danced to the other side of the pond. "And that water is _riddled_ with parasites—do you know what they can do to people?"

"Only if you drink it!" The older man snapped, disappearing and snagging Gohan in a bear hold. The teenager struggled, elbowing his captor in the ribs and stomping on his toes. With a vicious growl, the Saiyajin warrior lifted them both into the air and _hurled_ the teenager at the water. Gohan had time to close his mouth and pinch his nose closed before he was submerged.

He came up sputtering and cursing, using language that his mother would have flayed him alive for using. Booming laughter drew his attention to the rock and the tall man standing there, holding his sides and bending over to illustrate his glee at the teenager in the water.

"I hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth, boy!" He shouted, hopping into the water and swimming to the waterfall and allowing the crisp water to rain down on his head. Gohan swiped droplets from his face and huffed, his mind racing toward revenge as he tugged off his shoes under water and lobbed them at the shore.

He submerged and swam toward the waterfall, the draw of vengeance pulling him along. He lunged toward the legs barely concealed in the darkened waters, only to miss and smack his fingers against the rock wall behind the waterfall. He drifted to the surface, shaking the sting from his hand.

"Ow," he complained. "You know, to really make this fair, you should take off the Energy Block." Bardock gave him a look, raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, and sent a wave of water at the teenager.

"'Momma didn't raise no fool,' I believe is how some from this planet express that sentiment." Gohan rolled his eyes and returned fire until Bardock tired of the play and moved back to the shore. Gohan tilted his face back into the waterfall, ignoring the other man. In the loud silence of the roar of the waterfall, Gohan allowed himself to relax, and his mind to wander.

Bardock had refused to finish his story the previous night, and the night before that exhaustion had finally caught up with Gohan, but the teenager couldn't help but wonder what it was about the man that made him, well…him. There were times in the last two days that Gohan had seen something flicker across his face that worried the teenager, and while he was stuck and forced to trust the man, Gohan couldn't help but worry about the mass of psychological issues his situation was calling to mind. The least of which was Stockholm syndrome. He pushed these feelings away, unsure of what to do with them anyways.

Next up in his line of thoughts was home. He wondered what his mother was doing, and if his disappearance was causing her any issues with the pregnancy. He hoped not. And then his father flashed into his mind and he painfully allowed the man's image to linger before he shoved it away; that situation was just another in a long line of situations that continued to confuse and frustrate him.

His senses came alive directly before a ball of energy reached him, leaving him just enough time to duck beneath the water and avoid it. He pushed away from the waterfall and broke the surface just enough to peek at the shore line where the Saiyajin warrior stood, fully dressed with his arms crossed.

"If you're done playing, it's time to get going again," he called. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"You said you wanted me _in_ the water," he argued, not wanting the man to think he was willing to forget just who had kidnapped who; and then dumped them into a germ infested pond in the middle of a jungle.

Even from his spot in the water, he could see the dark smirk that crawled across his visage directly before he rose into the air and slammed enough ki down into the pond to scatter the water from the center, lapping up over the sides of the pond. The suction from the force of the water being pushed away drug Gohan down nearly to the bottom of the pond despite his kicking, but within a few second, he again broke the surface, his lungs screaming with the need for air.

"You know," he coughed. "This would be a little bit more of a fair fight if you removed my Energy Block!" He reminded again. Bardock laughed as the teenager crawled from the water, gravity pulling uncomfortably on his sopping clothes.

"Who said anything about a fair fight? We are Saiyajin, boy, fair has _nothing_ to do with it!"

"Obviously," Gohan muttered, shaking his head and sending water in every direction. Bardock harrumphed.

"Hurry up and change," he ordered, chunking a bag of clothes at the teenager. "We need to get out of here before my method of getting you out of the water draws too much attention." Gohan tilted his head to the side and smiled, but Bardock ended his plan before it had even half formed.

"If I must dress you, I will," he threatened seriously. Gohan rolled his eyes to the sky over head and began stripping off his soaked clothes. Bardock turned his back to the teen and stepped a few paces away, eyeing the metal plate again.

"Hurry up," Bardock ordered, swiftly spinning around. Gohan was hopping as he shoved his left foot into a boot; he was still shirtless. Bardock stepped closer to him, swiped up all of the wet clothes and shoved them into the empty bag; before he yanked the half-naked kid along behind him, and hurried them into the jungle, back toward the cave.

"What?" Gohan panted, once they reached the safety of the cool cave. "Did someone catch on to you?" Bardock did not spare him a look as he shoved the teenager inside. He didn't answer. Gohan sighed and scrubbed his hair dry with a spare shirt.

"This is getting old," he mumbled. A strong feeling of homesickness slammed into him as he yanked the skin tight shirt on and peeled it down his body. He missed his family. He slumped down the cave wall, closed his eyes, and settled his thoughts on home.

The way the mountain trees filtered the light into the windows at home; swayed the trees from their roots. He missed the song birds who had become a funny, distant family.

He missed his brother.

His gut cramped and he curled in on himself tighter. He missed Bird.

A sudden feeling attacked him, stealing his breath away and drying his mouth out. His heart pounded in his chest, and made his hands tremble and his thoughts scatter as a roaring filled his head, driving him to a blood lust so strong he thought he would pass out.

He slammed his head backwards into the jagged wall, and moaned. He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt as if it were filled with sand. Somewhere out there, beyond his own tortured world, a voice spoke to him, but he was too lost to hear it. All he could hear, all he could _feel_ was the vicious _ache_ in his thoughts begging to be released.

Fire burst into his vision and blazed across his mind, searing through the haze that the bloodlust had created to awaken him to the angry visage before him.

"What the hell?" Bardock demanded, drawing back and backhanding him again. Gohan groaned and brought his arms up to block further attacks as he blinked his eyes, trying to bring himself back and jumpstart his thoughts again. But the haze was gone, singed away by the abrupt, physical assault.

"What the, hell?" His captor swore once again. Gohan was slumped back against the wall again, his fingers pushed up into his hair, the soft palms of his hands covering his eyes; but even in his self-imposed darkness, the teenager heard and felt the older man back up some. He could, however, still feel the blatant stare and frown he was sending toward Gohan.

But Gohan did not want to talk, or try to explain his odd behavior. His head throbbed from both the self-inflicted smack against the wall and the backhands, and he was still feeling the last tinges of homesickness.

"Go away," he murmured, his voice lacking any heat. His captor snorted.

"That's likely." He heard Bardock shift his position, but remain the same distance away. "You being alive is of some importance," he retorted. Gohan took a deep breath and held it, still trying to calm the trembling of his insides.

"That something you do often? Or are you just trying to get my attention?" The man said, his voice soft and mocking. Gohan flexed his jaw and dropped his hands to glare hatefully at his kidnapper.

"What do you want with me? Is this stupid stone something that you can just take? Go! Take it! And then leave me the hell alone!" He stumbled to his feet, anger burning in his chest. Bardock jumped to his feet as well, an odd light in his eyes.

"Not that simple," he replied dryly, crossing his arms and daring the teenager to act. "Because believe me, if I could, I would take it and be gone, leaving you to your pathetic little fits of self-indulgence." Gohan narrowed his eyes.

"You don't know anything," he snapped. He turned to the right and took one step away from Bardock, before the man pressed a hand to his chest,

"Do not speak as if you are the only one to suffer in this life, boy," he warned. Gohan shook his head and pushed against the hand on his chest.

"Leave me alone," he demanded. "I don't want to talk anymore." Bardock snorted again, not removing his hand.

"Good. Because you need to shut up and just listen." He pressed against Gohan's chest until the teenager had his back against the wall of the cave, glaring angry daggers at the older warrior.

"Shit happens in life, kid, and you either win or you lose. Sometimes winning means the chance to fight again; and sometimes it means not needing to, but either way, it's all in how you see it." Gohan frowned and rolled his eyes.

"I don't really care for your words of wisdom or whatever this is," he snapped. Bardock brought his other hand up and slapped him just hard enough to be annoying, and irritate the younger Saiyajin even more.

"This is what being a Saiyajin was like when I was young," he retorted. "Back when we were a proud race, and a good, strong race. Now we are scattered and nearing extinction and the last of our kind does not even know what being Saiyajin is!

"You are a part of something bigger than yourself, boy, and that matters a whole lot more than these scars that you are hanging onto."

"You don't know crap!" The teenager hotly replied, allowing his anger to blossom. Bardock's expression was thunderous, and before Gohan could get off another word, he felt himself falling to the floor while being mentally suffocated.

_A burning brightness pushed against him, drowning him until he could sense the place where he had mentally incarcerated his emotions, binding them and storing them until they had grown too strong for him to control and had exploded out, leaving him feeling broken and dangerously torn apart. _

_**I know so much more than you would like me to know,**__ Bardock's voice spoke into his mind. _

_He pushed against the rawness of the newly healed space in Gohan's mind, sending pained warnings radiating throughout the teenager's being. Suddenly the space changed, and became a memory._

_Gohan was squatted down in an alleyway, allowing himself to bleed away his emotions on the edge of a razor. _

_Gohan again, lying in bed, unable to sleep, and unable to find the peace that he sought._

_Another vision, an older one, that Gohan cringed to see; one soon after the Cell games. He had just returned to his mother and informer her of his father's death. He was still tattered and worn, and barely awake, and his mother had fallen to her knees before him. Her mournful wail the most horrid sound he had ever heard in his short time on earth. _

_Viciously, he fought against the presence in his mind, fighting against the burning host with all that he had, completely unwilling to see any more._

_**LEAVE!**__ He demanded. But still more visions paraded passed him. His deepest, darkest memories—the ones that haunted him no matter what he did—continued in a sick moving picture show._

_Goten, bloodied and dying in his father's arms._

_Piccolo lying in the dirt with blood pulsing from his wounds with every beat of his heart, and telling him goodbye._

_Staring up into the darkness beyond his window, homesick for his father; his mother's distant, muffled sobs the only sound. _

_Ascending to the second level of the Super Saiyajin, feeling his power just barely under control, and knowing that he could end the world._

_**STOP!**__ The teenager shrieked again, fighting against the presence in his mind with everything he had. Suddenly, new memories appeared. Memories that Gohan did not recognize._

_The woman with the deep black hair, a wicked smile on her face as she looked back at him. A child stood tall beside her, his hair black and wild, blowing in some unknown wind._

_A person with orange skin and the strangest green, cat-like eyes looked up at him, a thin line of blood streaming from the corner of his mouth. Matching puddles of blood soaked the front of his brown clothes._

_Another scene, somewhere on a planet with three moons, and a deep, dark sky, another man lay dying, his face creased with age and wear, his body shrouded in the Saiyajin armor. Dark eyes blinked up at him, and Gohan realized this man was in his arms. _

"_Don't forget this," he said, grasping at the teenager's clothing. "Do not forget."_

_A sick, hollow sound exited the man's throat, followed by a horrifying gurgle, and his face went slack and his body lost all functioning._

_With a scream, Gohan lost his control and slammed into the presence in his mind, forcing it out._

Gasping, the teenager came back to himself, nausea rolling through his belly. He sat up slowly, eyeing the man kneeling beside him with caution. Bardock's eyes were still closed, his shoulders rising and falling in barely restrained breathing. Gohan's own chest ached with the strain of trying to keep up with his heart rate and temperature. He lifted a trembling hand and touched his cheek, surprised when his fingers came away feeling damp.

He glanced back to the man beside him and jumped upon seeing his dark eyes open and gazing through him. Fear waged a livid battle with anger as supreme emotion, but anger won out. Before he could speak, Bardock raised his hand, silencing him.

"You are not the only one who has struggled," he said quietly. His voice was no less severe for the volume. "I am not your friend, boy. I am a warrior; a soldier fighting against something you still can't even fathom in your infantile view of the world." Bardock stood, but Gohan remained on the ground, feeling sick and stricken.

"Learn to control yourself—your tongue specifically—or I will teach you to do so in the most unpleasant manner I can imagine." With these as his parting words, Bardock turned and strode to the other side of the cave, still keeping the teenager within his sight, but putting some distance in between them.

Shakily, Gohan rose to his knees, feeling dizzy and unwell as the world tilted hatefully in his eyesight. He remembered feeling like this before—sometime during his training with Piccolo, before the Demon King had learned to like him, and would frequently beat him into unconsciousness. He would wake up with the same detached feeling of vertigo then, too.

Carefully, he gave in to his most base desire and sank to the cool dirt floor, pressing his right cheek against the musty smelling earth. In this position, with his stomach laid out flat against the ground, the nausea lessened with the settling of the spinning earth.

When he had been young—before Everything had happened—he could remember spinning round and around until he was so dizzy that he would collapse to the ground in a fit of giggles as the sky continued on spinning without him.

It was not as fun now, he decided.

Some part of him hated the man who had taken him from his home in the dead center of night, but another part—some part Gohan wanted to pretend did not exist—did not hate him. No, this part of Gohan told him that this man was a key player in this wretched game that he had been forced into.

The teenager turned his eyes toward the other side of their small cave and watched the man. Bardock was leaned back against the cave wall with his eyes closed, his right leg bent at the knee and resting in front of him, the other stretched out. Gohan studied his face, noting the scars that were branded into his skin; he wondered—not for the first time—where those scars came from.

"Many, many battles." The warrior's gruff voice drifted to him, surprising him. Dark eyes met dark eyes from across the cave, and the strange expression in the man's eyes made Gohan wince.

"I have been in many battles," the man explained. He reached up and ran his left index finger along one on his left cheek—the most prominent. "This I received when my son was taken from me, and my wife destroyed before my eyes; my new born twin boys were taken from me." Gohan felt a pain that was not his twist into his thoughts.

"This one," Bardock continued, touching a thin one above his right eyebrow, "was from a spaceship landing on me." Gohan raised an eye brow. Bardock released a breath and stood, walking over to Gohan's still form.

"The others are from the fight with Freiza." He knelt and reached out to touch the teenager's brow.

"Don't," Gohan said, his voice firm; his eyes were dark, but he had not moved.

"I will not hurt you," Bardock murmured, his hand poised a few inches from Gohan's skin. No actual words were spoken, but the Demi-Saiyajin felt the other's remorse for losing his temper. Bardock had not meant to hurt him…which was odd. The teenager's shoulder's relaxed, and he allowed his eyes to drift closed.

The touch, when it came, was barely there, but it immediately sucked away the detached, ill feeling in his head. He opened his eyes when he heard movement and saw Bardock step away from him.

"You need to rest tonight, Gohan," he said quietly, an unnamed emotion in his voice. He dug through his pack, pulling out the containers that held his food, and began to concoct. Gohan felt that _cook_ was too strong of a word for what the man threw together. While normally edible, it was also very texturally interesting.

"How did you survive Freiza?" The teenager asked; his voice was low as he tentatively rose from his prostrate position. He sat up once again with his back pressed into the rock. He drew up his knees and curled his arms around them. "You said _she_ saved you."

"Yes," the man replied. He opened a thin box and sniffed it before he dumped it into a ceramic pot that had an odd thin plate beneath it. There was already water in the pot. Bardock sighed and dropped his eyes to the ground, thinking, before he spoke.

"Her ship was nearby," he began quietly. "She was drawn by the influx of emotion when Freiza destroyed us. I don't remember anything; I only know this from what has been revealed to me." Bardock rubbed a hand over his face, the scruffing sound of day old whiskers echoed around the chamber.

"I have been with her ever since," he allowed, meeting Gohan's eyes. The teenager sighed.

"That's it?" he asked. Bardock slipped a spoon into the pot and stirred the contents, his lips tightening in annoyance.

"What were you expecting?" Gohan snorted.

"You tell me," he retorted. Bardock paused to glare the teenager back into silence.

"You—" the phantom music that had attacked Gohan before came back full force, cutting off whatever Bardock was going to say. As opposed to the semi-relaxed state of the previous encounter, this encounter brought about a new reaction in his captor.

Bardock's eyes drew down immediately, joining the rest of his expression in a frown. As for himself, Gohan's heart beat thudded starkly in his chest, an unnamed fear edging up into his throat.

Bardock said something under his breath: Gohan thought it sounded like 'okay.' But he never got the chance to ask what was going on before the ground beneath them began to rumble.

"Time to go," his captor said, standing and crossing the chamber to where Gohan sat. He wrapped bruising fingers around Gohan's bicep and yanked him up.

"What—" Gohan began, but he was interrupted as a thunderous roar blasted into the chamber, stealing his breath. He coughed several times, and as the dust cleared, he realized that Bardock had raised his hand and blown the hole in the side of their cave. Before he could get a proper expletive out, his kidnapper shoved him through the new opening, into the slowly waning sunlight.

What greeted him, was something that had stalked his waking dreams for days: the ship from his first kidnapping, complete with a vast array of people scattered about. Each warrior was different in appearance from the next, but the similar black uniforms branded them as comrades, and tucked up into each warrior's elbow was a metallic weapon, trained exclusively on him.

Gohan felt dread pooling in his chest as a figure moved forward, and there, stepping towards them, was the woman with the hidden face. She wore a black, skin tight under suit with a gold breast plate across her chest and matching golden hip and thigh armor. Black boots encased her legs to just over her knees, while leather gloves covered her hands. Her head and face were covered entirely by a blood red material that draped over her shoulders, dark green eyes shot out from the crease allowed for her eyes.

Gohan's mouth popped open in surprise as he was dragged forward and thrown roughly to the ground at the woman's feet, panic beginning to blossom in his gut.

"My Lady," Bardock's gruff voice was low, but Gohan still felt every inch of betrayal as the man knelt beside him, bowing his head to the mysterious woman.

"Bardock," the woman murmured, her voice muffled by the layers of material. "You came through for me."

"Of course, My Lady," Bardock murmured, closing his eyes. Gohan felt extreme hatred build within him. In a moment of absolute hatred fueled by betrayal, he flung himself at the older warrior and slammed one fist into his face and the other into his stomach before Bardock could turn it around on him, slamming him in the abdomen so hard that the teenager doubled over, clutching his stomach. Bardock wrapped him in a rough embrace for a moment, his cheek brushing against the demi-Saiyajin's ear as he gruffly whispered something.

"Be careful who you give your trust to, little Saiyajin." As a chill went down his spine, Bardock shoved him back to the woman's feet, and before he could move again, a blinding pain shot across his eyes and sucked the world away from him.

DBZ

The world around him was cold. And bright. And his wrists and hands were hurting. Blearily, Gohan struggled to open his eyes, vaguely recalling the cause of the ache right behind his left ear. Bright, starched light bombarded his eyes and with a groan he closed his eyes again.

"Wake up," someone commanded. A lightning sharp pain zapped through his body, bringing him fully awake and snapping his eyes open with a scream that left him panting. His vision shifted and shimmered as if in a sudden heat wave, but slowly, after several blinking attempts, his surroundings began to swim into focus.

A thick, suffocating horror crept up his spine and took up residence in his chest as his predicament came into focus. Across from him, encased in several large, clear bubbles, were his father, Piccolo, Krillin, and in the last two, were his little brother—who sat despondent on the floor of the bubble, tears coursing down his plump cheeks—and then his mother—who was alternating screaming—what must be—obscenities and crying uproariously, although there was no sound. Gohan swallowed.

"Please," he whimpered, he shifted his arms, and his attention was drawn to the thin wire bands wrapped several times around his wrists, and then to the odd floating feeling due to being strung up, his toes just barely touching the floor. His hands throbbed from the blood pressing up into his fingertips, but still, thin trails of blood spiraled down his wrists and plopped onto the shiny floor.

Directly in front of him, was the woman who had captured him, her arms crossed and still clad in armor and the red material that shielded her face from view. To her right was Bardock, freshly dressed in clean, sharp armor that was similar to the woman's. His expression was blank, and no emotion could be seen from his calculating dark eyes. Beyond them, surrounding the rest of them and creating a thick ring with Gohan at the center, were several dozen warriors; Gohan recognized them as the same bunch from right before he blacked out.

"Fya," the woman's gravelly voice called across the room and Gohan sensed someone behind him shift, just as the name nudged his consciousness.

"Yes, Mistress?" A high voice from behind Gohan replied.

"Master Bardock will take over from here," she said.

"Of course, My Lady," the sniveling man replied. Into Gohan's line of sight stepped a man who appeared to be more rat than man, complete with tail. His face was gray with large, round eyes that narrowed distastefully over a pointed, long rat nose. Complete with whiskers that twitched nervously.

"Where is our Lady?" the woman shrieked suddenly, startling Gohan. He sucked in a breath suddenly at the searing pain tearing into his wrists. Bardock stepped forward as gleaming steel doors behind them swished open and a ten foot tall cylindrical container drifted into the room. The container was topped in the same steel that ringed the bottom, ending in a hover mechanism that lifted it just a few inches off of the floor. Between the two steel rings was a thick glass that offered a clear, unobstructed view of a figure floating inside of it. Pale gold material encased the figure, with long, thick strands of the most brilliant red hair that Gohan had ever seen spilling over its shoulders. As it was guided into the room by two men in the same uniforms as the rest, it was spun gently around until Gohan could make out a very human-looking woman was in the container. Her eyes were closed, but her cheek bones were sharp as if she had been wasting away.

A man strode beside the container—Gohan assumed he was male—with thick, blond hair framing a well-defined face. Sharp blue eyes glared around the room, and Gohan could not help but notice that several of the warriors surrounding them gave the new comer thinly veiled hatred concealed in looks. He was also dressed differently with thick blue robes that billowed whenever he took a step.

"Any change, Nomad?" The mysterious woman asked, her voice harsh. The blond man gave the woman an indifferent look.

"No, My Lady," he replied, bowing to her. Bardock shifted, drawing Gohan's attention. The young man locked eyes with the older warrior, hatred building in his chest which quickly twisted into utter confusion as Bardock shook his head once, discreetly from side to side.

"Saiyajin!" The woman said, her tone dripping with hatred, he green gaze meeting his. "You will have one chance to tell me where the Blaque Stone is."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Gohan replied, trying to keep his tone even and devoid of fear. Bardock gave Gohan another stern, intense glare before he turned back to the woman.

"Mistress Seriff," Nomad began. "We have seen that this boy does not respond to most modes of persuasion; Fya's treatment did nothing to break this shield the child has erected."

"You're point, Nomad?" She demanded. Bardock shifted again.

"I feel, after perusing his mind last time and again this time that we must push him harder; he _has_ the stone, he just needs to realize it."

"I don't _have_ the stone! I would give it to you and throw you a farewell party if I could! If it would mean you would go and leave us in peace! Please! Let my family go!" Gohan's eyes shot to his father's. Goku stood, silently watching from his bubble beside Piccolo. Seeing them there truly scared Gohan beyond reason.

"Be quiet," the woman—Seriff—ordered. She strode over to the container and placed her hand on the clear glass, gazing at the woman inside.

"What do you suggest, Nomad?" She asked.

"You have several options for leverage here," the man began, stepping forward and gesturing toward the bubbles that held Gohan's family. "But, I don't think that alone will be enough to bring about our desired outcome."

Seriff turned and pinned the man with her ambiguous gaze.

"What do you suggest, Nomad?" She repeated, her voice sharp, enunciating each word.

"I suggest we convince the boy to allow us access to the Stone while using his family to convince him." Seriff turned to face him sharply. Again, Bardock shifted.

After several long moments, the woman replied.

"The woman and child will not be touched," she murmured, surprising Gohan. His heart fluttered oddly in his chest.

"But Mistress—"

"They will not be touched!" The woman repeated, her voice dangerously sharp. Nomad nodded and bowed.

"Of course. As you wish. Bardock!" The man who kidnapped him straightened and met the man's eyes. "You will be honored." The man had stepped farther into the room, and turned suddenly to flick his hand at one of the warriors, who strode quickly away. He met Gohan's eyes.

"Unless you feel like giving us what you have," he said, tilting his blond head to the side. Gohan's whole body shook from a deep, spine gripping fear.

"I told you, I don't have it," Gohan insisted, his voice breaking, weakly he swallowed.

The man returned, carrying a thick silver rope, which he handed to Bardock. Silently, the warrior dropped all of the rope but one end of it, revealing it to be a seriously wicked looking whip. Gohan swallowed back a cry. Bardock stepped around him and the teenager's lungs began to inflate and deflate rapidly—the same time several of the warriors stepped forward, in their hands were what looked like remotes. With a small movement of their wrists, all of the bubbles, minus his mother's and brother's, lit up with violent arcs of electricity.

His father's scream echoed inside Gohan's head, mixing eerily with Krillin's and Piccolo's screams. His heart rate sped up and his hyperventilating ratcheted up, but before he could utter a sound, white hot fire burned a searing line across his back, pulling a scream from him. For a moment, Gohan saw nothing but blinding white.

The teenager heard something vaguely, but he was struggling too much with trying to draw in air into a chest that was intent on collapsing to be able to focus on it. The icing on the cake was the wire that was cutting into the flesh on his wrists.

As his friend's and father's screams filled the air, another lash landed on Gohan, eliciting a scream that hurt his throat. Something thick was building in the back of Gohan's mind, but the teenager was too stressed to examine it farther.

A moment later, he opened his eyes to see Krillin crumple to the floor of his bubble. Moisture flooded Gohan's eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Piccolo fell next, his purple gi and green skin a disheveled mess on the floor of his bubble. Another livid stripe seared across his back, turning his surroundings utterly white. The pressure in his head peeked, and just as his father crumpled to the bottom of his bubble, Gohan's world faded away with a feral scream.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Here I stand, helpless and left for dead."

-Breaking Benjamin "Dance With the Devil"

_WARNING! This chapter is drowning in VIOLENCE folks! You have been WARNED!_

Bardock felt the change in the air around him as he saw the prisoners fall, one by one in the containment spheres; he held his breath as he drew back and laid another mark against the teenager's back, flinching at the scream that erupted from the boy just as the cavernous room was lit with an other-worldly light.

He had one moment to realize that the light came from Gohan before he was picked up and physically thrown away.

He took a moment to take stock of his surroundings from where he was slumped against the far wall. People, equipment—even the containment spheres—where blasted away from the epicenter of the room: Son Gohan.

The teenager floated in the center of the room, no longer bound by the wires from the ceiling, instead, bathed in a pristine, hot white light that emanated from his chest. Across the room, Seriff rose up and crawled to the healing tank that had been shattered on impact from the force. Fya cowered against one of the far walls. Bardock shook his head and stood, unsurprised as Nomad strode quickly forward, already on his feet, his lips moving quickly, his blue eyes wild and feverish as he approached the teenager. He motioned to some of the warriors to his right, and before Bardock could warn them, they jumped at the suspended demi-Saiyajin.

Without a sound, the boy moved one hand and all three men hit the floor, dead. Screaming something unintelligible, Nomad brought his hands up and cut the air before him with several sharp movements. Bardock growled and pushed himself to his feet, edging around the side of the room toward where the containment spheres had been. Goku stood, looking no worse for the wear with Piccolo and Krillin at his sides. All three were watching the proceedings with varying levels of raw horror.

They grasped how bad this could be.

He skirted the edge, keeping his attention on the teenager and Nomad as he neared Seriff. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Goku's wife held their younger son pressed close against her body and the wall, shielding the little boy from the room. Her dark eyes glued to her older son.

Bardock reached Seriff and grabbed her arm, pulling her back behind the crumpled bit of metal from the tank.

"Mistress!" She called, her voice choked with fear and hysteria. "Mistress! The Stone! I have brought you the Stone, Mistress! Please! Please, Mistress!" Near them, Nomad screamed something in an unknown language, continuing to sign odd, ancient runes with his hands, moving closer and closer to the bright white body in the center of the room.

Fear gripped the Saiyajin warrior as the alien known as Nomad stepped closer and closer to the oblivious boy. With a shouted warning, Bardock watched as Nomad's fingertips barely brushed the skin on Gohan's right arm—before the man's arm flopped to the cold floor of the room, detached and bleeding freely where it landed. Nomad screamed and stumbled backwards, but his scream was cut short as the teenager suddenly moved, thrusting his right hand straight into the blonde's abdomen. Time froze for an instant as, behind him, the boy's mother screamed. Warriors all around the room seemed unable to react as Nomad's body fell with a gurgle and a thump from the teenager's outstretched hand.

His hand was not fisted, but stretched out, fingers laid tightly together, creating the perfect weapon. With a blank expression, the boy's feet touched the floor. Bardock stood, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as Seriff still remained at his feet, clinging to her mistress.

Gohan's hair was gold, and his eyes the terrifying green of the ascended Saiyajin, but this was more than just ascension.

"Leave!" Bardock shouted at the warriors still lingering around the room, quickly, there was a mad, rushing exodus to the large door. Gohan turned, his expression still void, and raised a single palm, a bright glow of power building quickly there.

His father landed in front of him, his brow creased in concern and hands raised in peace.

"Gohan," the man began, but was cut off as the teenager released his blast directly at the warriors leaving. Reacting quickly, Goku deflected the blow away, sending it blasting into the far wall of the room. Coincidentally, this opened up an alternate escape route for many of the men, who saw their opportunity and obeyed their commanding officer by fleeing for their very lives.

"Gohan!" Goku called again, pushing up into the boy's personal space and grasping his arms. "Stop! It's over!" But his son was beyond hearing.

Quickly, the teenager yanked away and shoved both of his hands against his father's chest, blowing him against the far wall, where he smacked the wall and lay, dazed.

"Gohan!" The short, bald man jumped into the boy's path. "Wait! What's wrong?" But again, any attempt at reason was met with outright violence and the short man barely dodged a thin, laser-like beam of ki that would have skewered him.

Piccolo grabbed the teenager from behind, slipping his arms up until he had the kid in a lock, but the teenager's response was to twist and plant his hand deep into the Namekjin's abdomen, much like he had Nomad. Piccolo's expression was stricken with surprise as Gohan blew him off of his hand, sending the alien tumbling a few feet away.

"Gohan!" Goku called, his tone unbelieving. He rushed at the boy again, the boy's mother screaming again in the back ground, and in an instant, Bardock foresaw the teenager putting a hand threw his father chest.

In one blinding moment, several things happened at once. The room they were in screamed and rent nearly in two as Bardock intercepted Goku and viciously smacked him away before facing the out of control teenager. Sweat dripped down Bardock's spine as he faced the boy and with a sudden, terrifying knowledge, the Saiyajin warrior knew his fate.

And with a last glance toward the opposite wall, where Seriff sat clinging to her mistress, he locked eyes with her…and accepted it.

DBZ

Blinding, white fire broke across Gohan's consciousness, as an intrusive personality invaded his mind, breaking through into him, and showing him a memory with a familiar feeling.

"_So this is the new one, yes?" Someone said in the corridor outside of the room he was in. Gohan looked down and saw a woman holding a bundle in her arms, sweat clinging to her forehead that plastered her long black hair to her skin. Standing near her was a man. Bardock. With another bundle in his arms._

"_What good, strong males we have," the woman said, her voice rough and thickly accented. Bardock looked at her and smiled._

"_Of course; they're ours," he replied. The woman smiled. _

"_Have you named that one yet?" Bardock looked back down at the bundle in his arms, and with growing alarm, Gohan realized it was an infant._

"_Kakarott."_

With a scream born of pain that wasn't his, Gohan returned to himself, a known and yet unfamiliar presence warring for control as he panted, and looked into Bardock's surprised face.

And then he looked down, and realized his hand was embedded in the man's sternum. Warm, pulsating blood and tissue pressed against his hand, unnaturally warming it. With a cry, the teenager watched as the man pulled himself off of Gohan's hand and fell back onto the floor. Bardock covered the wound with his fingers, but his crimson life force continued to drain away, seeping between his fingers.

"Sorry, Kid," the warrior whispered, dark eyes that were so very, very familiar softened for the first time in the face of the man before him. "I tried to fix it." His breathing grew shallower as his dark eyes started to become unfocused.

Gohan took one look at his surroundings and cried, collapsing on the floor beside the older man. He pushed his hands against the warrior's wound, trembling as blood flowed out freely. The old warrior's eyes had faded, unfocused and cold as the tumbling rivulets of blood began to slow. Stunned, Gohan pulled his sticky fingers away.

"No, no!" the teenager screamed as flashes of memory flew up to blind him. He raised his head and saw the cloaked woman on the floor beside the still figure from inside the cylinder, but his searching gaze didn't stop there. Next he saw his father as the man approached him cautiously from the side.

"Dad?" he asked, his voice breaking. Tears spilled over and crashed down his cheeks as he turned to look behind him. The room was split open and standing on the floor beneath the opening were Eighteen, Vegeta, and Yamacha.

"Piccolo?" Gohan called, his shaking making it impossible for him to stay up on his knees; he fell forward, his blood covered hands slipping on the hard floor.

"I'm alive," Piccolo grumbled from off to the teenager's right. His relief at seeing the alien was short lived as shock started to take over. Harshly, he tried to get himself under control, swallowing down his tears and trying to forcefully shove his emotions away, back into that dangerous world that he had lived out of for so long.

_No_.

"What the hell?" Gohan heard Piccolo say. Feeling as if he were losing his battle, the teenager opened his eyes and found his father's chest in his line of sight. Goku was turned to the right, looking behind himself.

And that's when Gohan saw her eyes.

The woman with the red hair was standing now, the other woman one step behind her and to her immediate right.

And her eyes were just as red as her hair. Dread began to pool in Gohan's belly.

But then the music started again, and the shock and terror and pain that he had been struggling to contain were quickly contained _for _him. The cloaked woman floated slowly over to where Bardock had fallen and pressed her hands against his chest, but Gohan was frozen in place, unable to react as the red eyed woman moved slowly closer.

Goku stood and faced the woman.

From her place on the floor, the woman called Seriff suddenly hissed much like an angry cat, her head turned in Goku's direction, but before anyone could act, the red-eyed woman raised her hand to Seriff. Immediately, Seriff calmed and turned her attention back to Bardock.

"Please, do not be alarmed," the red-eyed woman said, her expression neither threatening nor friendly, but oddly detached. She looked right at Goku.

"I will help first, and then we"—here she gestured at the woman crouched over Bardock—"will explain." Her eyes drifted down to capture Gohan.

"And I will explain what you carry." Goku moved back, dropped to one knee directly beside Gohan and gripped his shoulder tightly—drawing a shriek from the teenager. Goku lifted his hand in surprise, and then grit his teeth in anger as his eyes fell on the cross hatching of lines that roped across the teenager's back.

"Gohan," Chichi said softly as she sidled up to her son and husband, dropping beside them and setting Goten down close to her. "Thank Kami you're both okay."

Gohan wondered if he should argue with that assessment.

"What the _hell_?" Vegeta swore from behind them. Goku turned and spared the man a glance, smiling at Yamacha's expression of confusion.

"Good to see you, Vegeta," Goku commented. Gohan could not remove his gaze from the woman with the red eyes, no matter how hard he tried. Although he could not tell for sure if it was due to fear or fascination.

As his adrenaline washed away, he began to _hurt_. Shock warred with confusion as his predominate emotion, although shock was winning against his body as he started to tremble badly.

While the red-eyed woman turned to assist the cloaked woman, Goku turned and cupped Gohan's cheeks with his large hands. Chichi made a strange sound as his back was turned in her direction: Gohan assumed the flesh on his back was shredded if the way that it felt had anything to do with the way it looked.

"Gohan, what hurts? Tell me, so that we can help," Chichi said, gently laying a hand on his shoulder, smoothly avoiding any of the torn flesh. Gohan shuddered harder, totally unable to contain his shaking, adrenaline-spent body any longer.

"Gohan," Goten whispered, sitting close to his brother's knees, his small hands bumping into the blood still smeared on the teenager's hands and coloring the floor before him in a macabre painting. Gohan sucked in a breath and expelled it too quickly, his ribs protesting as his lungs tried to out think his brain on how to function.

"Calm down, son, you're breathing too fast," Goku murmured, meeting his eyes; the dark orbs were blurred and for the life of him, Gohan could not focus on them. The pressure building blindly within his head pushed to the forefront and with a final sigh, Gohan passed into nothingness.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

"Fully Alive"

-Flyleaf

Something warm was curled up beside him, breathing evenly and slowly pulling him out of whatever hell he had been in.

Sunlight crisply poured into his bedroom window and for just a moment, Gohan felt fear that he would find Nightmare Goku just around the corner, but he quickly shoved that away and moved his head until he could see that Bird was curled into his back while Goten slept with one leg over his hip and the other pinning his left knee down.

Gohan cracked a smile. The kid really was just like his father.

"You're quite a bit like your father, too, you know." Gohan started at the softly spoken words, but caught himself quickly. He moved gently and saw Bardock resting with his back against the wall beside his window at the foot of the bed.

"What happened?" Gohan asked, his muscles tensing in fear. Bardock made a face and stretched his left leg straight, and bent the other before him.

"I will be expected to notify your parents that you're finally awake," the man replied, his dark eyes watching the teen's response.

"That's okay, I'm here." Gohan craned his neck and found his father, dressed in his orange gi with bare feet leaning against the bedroom door frame.

"How do you feel, son?" Goku asked as he stepped into the room. Cradled in his hands were two mugs of what smelled suspiciously like coffee. He handed one to the man at the foot of Gohan's bed and brought his own up for a sip.

"It's hot, but would you like some, Gohan?" Momentarily distracted, Gohan did not respond, instead, reaching with near perfect reflexes for his teacher and friend.

_**I'm here, kid**_, Piccolo replied, his gruffness brushing against Gohan's consciousness and soothing him.

_**Okay**_.

_**We'll talk later, kid, right now you need to talk to your dad and…**_ a memory teased Gohan.

"My grandfather," he murmured to himself, his eyes snapping back into focus and hunting down the familiar dark eyes at the foot of his bed. "You're my grandfather." Bardock tilted his head to the side, still watching the teen.

"Did you figure that out for yourself or did your green friend clue you in?" Goku settled into the chair at Gohan's desk, silently watching him.

"I knew," Gohan offered. He shifted again, this time noticing that he was not in pain. He frowned in confusion and rose into a sitting position: he was feeling out of sorts with the two men being so…odd.

"I remember that memory that you gave me after I'd…" he couldn't bring himself to go further. He swallowed as the man—his grandfather—chuckled.

"Yes, a violent way to die," he allowed. "And I did. Almost. Again." Goku snorted and shook his head.

"You make the most interesting friends, Gohan," he commented. He rose and stretched his mug out to the teen. "Would you like some? It's warm."

"Dad, I don't understand," Gohan admitted, beseeching his father with his eyes. Goku smiled and ruffled his hair.

"You will," he said, handing his mug to Gohan so that he would be free to pluck Gohan's slumbering little brother off the bed. Goten mumbled something and curled against his father's chest.

"I'll be right back." Beside him Bird's breathing deepened for a moment as she stretched, her pale blue eyes blinking open. Lazily, she smiled at the teenager.

"I'm happy you are okay, Gohan; we were worried about you when you disappeared." Gohan smiled as the girl hugged his arm and sat up. She eyed him with a distinctly Chichi expression. Gohan had a feeling the girl was channeling his mother entirely too well.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I seem to run off on my own a lot." He eyed the man at the foot of his bed. Bardock smirked and stood slowly from the floor, stretching to relieve stiff muscles. For some obnoxious reason, Gohan felt slightly over come for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Bird made a sound and narrowed her eyes at the man, while Bardock chuckled and gripped his mug with both hands, staring down at the teen.

"Your mother was right, you do have a huge guilt issue, don't you? I betrayed you, Gohan, do you happen to remember that?" Gohan winced. He was probably right: he was his father's son after all.

"Yeah, I remember that," he muttered. "Kind of hard to forget." Bird kissed his cheek and hopped off of the bed.

"You're mother said whenever you wanted to get up, you could; she is lying down right now. I think this was all too much for her." Goku spoke as he walked back into the room, accepting a hug from Bird before the blond girl quietly left the room. Gohan watched her go as he threw back his covers and all but flung himself from the bed. Goku swiped his mug up from the bed and leaned his hip against the desk, eyeing the teenager as he stretched his arms over his head and leaned from one side to another, testing his muscles.

"Any soreness?" his father asked, darting forward and poking him in a spot that had always been prone to being ticklish. Gohan yelped and danced away, wary.

"No, or at least not much; my back feels funny and my wrists tingle, but nothing that just really, really hurts." Goku nodded, a smile on his face as Gohan headed for the door and the safety of the bathroom.

Once the door was closed, Gohan leaned his back against the door and closed his eyes. A peculiar feeling edging into him. He was having a hard time being able to reconcile what was going on currently to what had happened.

"Come out when you're done, Gohan," his father's voice called through the door. "We'll be in the kitchen." That evened out some of his fear, but still, a slight amount remained.

A few minutes later, Gohan entered the kitchen redressed comfortably in sweat pants and a t-shirt that had a faded emblem of Capsule Corporation on the left arm and the back. His short hair stuck up in its natural pattern, but at least it was clean. Goku sat in one of the chairs with Goten curled up in a blanket on his lap, and Bardock –his grandfather!—stood beside the window that Gohan had once broken out in his haste to run away. He pursed his lips and scrubbed a hand through his hair, sending droplets of water everywhere as his cheeks colored.

"So," he started. " How many people did I kill?" Goku's snapped his gaze up at that, but it was Bardock who replied.

"Six." Gohan swallowed and nodded. That's what he had thought. He slumped down into a kitchen chair as the front door swept open and the cloaked woman entered, holding the door open for the woman with red eyes. The teenager hopped to his feet, suddenly fearful.

"Don't be afraid," the red-eyed woman said, he voice low and soft. Goten made a sound and curled tighter against Goku, starting an ache near Gohan's left rib cage that he quickly shoved away. The red-eyed woman tilted her head to the side.

"This is _La Fetcha_, Gohan," Bardock said. "And this is Seriff." This time, he gestured to the cloaked woman. Although it was still obviously her, she seemed less dangerous this time, although this time she was dressed in a blue dress that swept the ground and a darker blue cloak that concealed her face.

"You may call me Fey, Gohan; I have searched for you for a long time," the red-eyed woman said, her gaze lingering on the little boy in Goku's arms. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath and when she opened them again, they were a bright, translucent green. Gohan frowned at the change.

"Who are you?" He asked. Fey's mass of hair was drawn back into a long braid down her back but for the lock to either side of her face. She stepped closer to the table and sat down.

"I am very old, Gohan," she began. "I have been around for a really long time. Most do not remember my people; we were so few to begin with. But that does not really matter. What does matter is that you are the new carrier of the Blaque Stone." Here she paused as Seriff leaned against the wall.

"The Stone is what saved your life two days ago—"

"_TWO_ days ago?" Gohan glanced at his father. "I have been out for two days?" Goku nodded as Fey continued.

"Don't be alarmed, Gohan; it is a side effect of using the stone. You are a carrier, but the stone picks and chooses the perfect host: someone who is very pure of heart, but someone who has enough personal strength and power in his own right. You were chosen, Gohan."

"I don't know if I care anymore," the teenager muttered, frowning. "It means more getting into trouble for me." Fey laughed, a beautiful sound, although her expression was dulled.

"You have been given a gift, child, one that you cannot refuse or give back in any case. You may as well adjust." Gohan rolled his eyes testily. Fey tilted her head to the side and watched him for a moment. Gohan glanced over at his father, who was watching him, to his grandfather, who was watching him.

"Do you remember being in my ship?"

"Which time?" the teenager asked, raising his eyebrows innocently. Bardock frowned at him, but his father did not respond. Surprising.

"The most recent time, when you finally allowed the stone to awaken," she clarified. Gohan blinked at her.

"You mean when your people captured my family, stuffed them into bubbles and tortured them while my grandfather tortured me? Yeah, I do have vague memories of that," the teenager groused. Fey said nothing in reply, just watched him for a moment.

"You are afraid still," she announced. Gohan snorted.

"Of what? Flying monkeys? Nope! Being abused by those who are supposed to care about me? NOPE! Been there done that,"

"You are afraid and the Stone is turning it into this aggression. You are safe, Gohan, in your home, with your family. We are not here to harm you. I only come to explain." Gohan swallowed hard, recognizing the woman's words as truth. He sighed and licked his lips.

"The man you killed, Nomad, was a drifter who came to be with our crew. He tried to kill me, and nearly accomplished it, along with destroying everything I hold dear." Fey paused, her newly green eyes drifted off to the side, focusing on Goten before becoming vacant.

"He wanted the stone for himself, believed he could harness you and therefore harness the power of the stone. He was wrong and is dead because of his arrogance." The last of her words drifted off in a whisper. Her now teal eyes were clear and focused solely on the teenager's face now.

"He attacked me one day, weakening my defenses. The only way for me to survive was to enter a deep, deep sleep and urge my dear one to find you: the bearer of the Blaque Stone, the only one able to heal what that monster had done." Seriff shifted, drawing Gohan's attention, but her shrouded face left everything up to the imagination. Gohan frowned.

"I don't understand," he said. Fey tilted her head in a single nod, her eyes drifting to Goten again. Bardock shifted behind him, drawing the teenager's gaze. Dark eyes met dark eyes and something shifted inside of Gohan.

He stilled and crossed his arms, trying to pin down the strange feeling, determined not to panic.

"Yeah. I am going back to bed," he announced. He dropped his arms and turned on the spot, heading back to his room. Surprisingly, none of the adults commented—not even his father, whom Gohan felt was biting his tongue. Once in the relative safety of his room, Gohan pushed the door closed and pressed his back into it, trying to even out his see-sawing feelings. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, but he saw nothing but spilled blood behind his eyelids. His eyes snapped open, evicting the images. He stepped over to his bed and dove into the soft comfort and the security of the soft blankets.

His mother used to hand wash their things until just before Trunks appeared, when Goku had surprised her with a washing machine. The smell of the detergent smelled the same, though, and continued to infuse Gohan with images of home and warmth. All in all, he could understand completely why so many people chose to go back to bed when the going got tough.

Unwillingly, his thoughts turned traitor and circled the strangers who were in his living room.

_Why couldn't I just be normal? What's wrong with normal? I know I'm half alien and all, but really? I have to be the carrier of a dangerous, evil rock, too?_ He tossed himself over until he was lying on his stomach, his arms tucked up under his chest, his head turned just barely to the left to allow him to breath.

Unconsciously, he thumbed his collar bone and wondered what his friends were doing right then. His normal friend. The ones who were not aliens and did not personally know aliens. And also did not happen to be trouble magnets.

Gohan sighed. He was, sadly, beginning to understand how his father could choose death to protect his family.

And that did nothing but make his insides tense uncomfortably. He swallowed and shifted again, more onto his side this time and closed his eyes.

This time, there was clear blackness behind his eyelids. Thankfully. Of course, this did not last exceptionally long and within a few seconds, the calm of the darkness was replaced with visions that made his stomach roll viciously.

He bounded from his bed, threw open the bed room door, and ripped into the bathroom just in time to deposit whatever had been in his stomach. He repeated this action three times before his body decided he was done. Shaking, he closed the lid on the toilet, flushed, and sat back on his heels, nearly jumping completely out of his skin when a moist rag appeared in front of him. Startled, he glanced to his left and found his mother. Chichi smiled at him.

"Hey," she said softly, her dark eyes large and mirrored. Suddenly, Gohan's eyes burned, and feeling pained, he closed them. He heard his mother's gown rustle as she brushed his clammy cheeks with the cool rag.

"You know, I have a really good idea of how you feel right now, and I would recommend a sip of something." Feeling a little more solid, the teenager opened his eyes and smiled weakly when she handed him a glass of clear, cold water. She settled onto the floor and held out the wash rag again, trading him for the glass.

"Better?" she asked, running the back of her fingers against his cheek.

"Yeah," Gohan replied, taking another sip of water and sitting fully on the floor, his back against the wall. Almost shyly, Gohan eyed his mother.

For as long as he could remember, Chichi had been a solid, capable person, with a kinetic, nearly frantic constancy about her. As if she moved to keep the world turning properly; and honestly, she frequently kept his own world moving.

Now, as he sat watching her, he realized that she had slowed down quite a lot. Her hair was still as dark chocolate as he could remember, but there were now thin slivers of silver that raked through it. Creasing her eyes were the tell-tale lines of age that Gohan had never noticed before. Enthralled and slightly concerned, Gohan pulled back and looked fully on his mother's face, trying to memorize each curve and color, suddenly completely grateful that she was there and safe.

"Are you okay, Mom?" he asked. The barely-there lines around her eyes deepened significantly as she smiled gently and shifted, rubbing at her left wrist with her fingers.

"I'm more tired this time," she admitted quietly, still smiling gently. "It has been a few years since I have done this."

"Is this anything like what it was like when it was me?" He asked suddenly curious.

"Oh no, I was younger then," she said. She was quiet for a moment, the same gentle smile on her face as she seemed to see something in her mind's eye.

"You did what you had to do, Gohan," she said quietly. Gohan frowned and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

"No, Mom," he replied. Chichi brushed her fingers through his hair.

"No, listen to me, Gohan," she said. "You need to understand what I am saying to you. You had no choice in what happened and the Blaque Stone saved your life and ours, too." Gohan tilted his head and eyed his mother, his brow pulled down and his lips twisted into a grimace.

"I killed those men, Mom, in cold blood." He curled his fingers into his hair and pulled several times, but Chichi wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tugged them away.

"I know, love," she whispered. "You reacted, and on top of that, they were pushing you to force that reaction out of you; you had no choice.

"And you saved us all and stopped that man." Gohan sat back, his rear starting to complain about the hard, cold tiles. He leaned his head back and thunked it against the wall.

"I see them when I close my eyes," he whispered, his eyes feeling warm again. Frustrated, he scrubbed at his left forearm with his palm. Chichi sighed and gently ran her fingers through the hair at his temple.

"I can't tell you what to do about that," she said. "But I do know that your father can help. And Piccolo, I am sure, will be there for you."

Gohan peeked at her from under his fringe, surprised by her response. Catching his expression, Chichi laughed, running her fingers over her abdomen.

"I love you, kid," she announced, shifting to climb to her feet. "When are you going to get that I will do whatever it takes to take care of you and your brother? And Bird! And this little one." She rubbed her belly again and looked down at him, pulling her house robe closer around her.

"Come on, Love, on your feet and off of the floor," she said, offering him a hand. Gohan accepted the hand, but did not use any force to pull on her as he rose to his feet. She tugged on him and wrapped her arms around him, and Gohan was surprised to find that he was slightly taller than her. As earlier in his blankets, he felt warm and safe being in his mother's arms.

"Love you, Mom," he whispered.

"Love you back," she replied quietly before she released him. "Now, go back out there and try."

And with more settled, even footing, he obeyed, escorting his mother back to the kitchen where his father and brother still sat together. They spoke quietly to each other with Goku running his fingers through the boy's hair. Goten's expression was one of childish fear, and Gohan felt a hitch of guilt hit his insides.

"Hey," Gohan said meekly as they came back in. Goku looked up at him, while Goten uncurled from Goku and held his hands out to be picked up by his brother.

"Gohan," the little boy whispered. He laid his head down on Gohan's shoulder and curled his fingers into the collar of his t-shirt, something he had not done since he was a toddler. Gohan curled him closer against his chest and sat at the table as Bird drifted in.

He meekly looked over at his father and then over at his newly found grandfather—both men gazed back evenly at him.

"Sorry," he muttered, fumbling with Goten's pajama top as he rubbed his hand up his brother's back. Bardock made a noncommittal noise, and took a sip of whatever was in his mug.

"Fey and Seriff will return tomorrow," Bardock informer him. "And although Fey was clear that it would most likely take you a few days to wrap your mind around what you are now charged with, and that we should give you that benefit, I am here to inform you that you will grow up and get used to this _quickly_: you don't have the luxury of taking forever to get used to this."

Gohan frowned and glanced at his father. Goku sat with his mug cupped in his hands and his elbows on the table. He met Gohan's surprised look steadily over the rim of his mug. Goten shifted until he was facing the table, his back still pressing into Gohan's chest.

"And if I don't want to do this?" Gohan asked, directing the purely obstinate question to his grandfather, who raised his eyebrow in reply. Surprisingly, it was Goku who answered.

"I don't believe you have an option, son," his father replied quietly. Chichi, who had been silently filling two mugs turned for the table and set one of the cups down in front of her eldest son and settled beside her husband with the other.

Needing to think about that, Gohan took a sip and smiled: it was her hot chocolate. Obviously, she was softening him up with hot chocolate.

Of course, it was going to work, but still.

"Gohan, you have been picked out of everyone in the universe to be the sole host of one of the most powerful things in the world," Chichi said, her gaze firm and level. "I know you well enough to know that you will protect others with this gift—"

"But I _didn't_, Mom," he interrupted forcibly. "I _killed_ people."

"Yes, you did," Bardock said, his voice low. "You blatantly killed innocent people in their homes for no other reason than to hear them scream." Speechless, Gohan stared at him. Bardock smirked.

"Nothing to say to that? Because in case you have forgotten, you were forcibly taken away from your family, strung up and abused for the sole purpose of making you react _exactly_ as you did." The man paused and took a sip from his mug, his black eyes daring a response from the teenager.

"Why do you think I kidnapped you, Gohan?" The teenager frowned and glanced at his parents, who were suspiciously quiet. Chichi noticed the look.

"We have had much to talk about for the past few days while we waited for you to wake up," she explained. Unsure what to think about that, Gohan turned his attention back to the Saiyajin at the end of the table.

"Because you're a creep who wanted to torture his grandson again? I don't know!" Bardock leaned back in his chair, his expression muted.

"The first time you were taken, I was trying to break into your subconscious and find the stone, but I was not the one that hurt you, Gohan. I am many things, but I don't mentally torture children for fun."

"I remember your face, though, once, after—" Gohan paused, not sure he could go there. Chichi shifted uneasily, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Goku was clasping Chichi's left hand within his own.

"No, you saw what Fya wanted you to see. He suspected that I was not completely loyal to their current cause, and was actually correct, but he planted that vision so that you would not trust me in the future if I attempted to make contact with you. Fya was the one who beat you, Gohan, not me."

Gohan dropped his eyes to the table top and thought back to what little he could remember of his most recent trip to the ship.

"Was Fya there this last time?"

"Yes." Gohan looked back up at Bardock through his bangs, mildly concerned to note the fury that rolled off of the man.

"He disappeared when it was obvious that you were out of control," Goku offered.

"Don't worries, Gohan, we will find him," Chichi promised, sending a chill down his back at the tone of his mother's voice. He _almost_ felt sorry for the guy.

"Why did I kidnap you, Gohan?" Bardock repeated, a bite to his voice. Goten shifted again, and Gohan realized that the boy was asleep, his head tilted to the left and resting securely against Gohan's chest.

"I don't know," he muttered. _Or care._

_**Yes, you do**_, came the not so unexpected reply.

"Seriff's history is a brutal one," Bardock said quietly, catching Gohan's attention with the sift. "I will not relate any of it but this: she became close to Fey after she was rescued as a child. She has been with Fey for many, many years, and when Fey suddenly became sick, Seriff nearly lost her mind trying to find the one thing Fey said for her to find: the Blaque Stone. You.

"I took you to keep you safe because I knew that if Nomad got his hands on you before Fey could make it to earth with her entourage, that he would try anything and everything to force your reaction."

"You handed me over to them anyway!" Gohan exclaimed, tempering his voice when Goten muttered in his sleep.

"Yes; when Fey made it to earth and was on the ship with Seriff, I sent a message to her telling her where to meet me, and I handed you over to them willingly." He sat there gazing evenly into Gohan's eyes.

"Why?" the teenager asked, irritated that the warrior seemed bent on being obtuse.

"Because you needed to be forced," he said quietly, his voice unapologetic, but firm.

"You knew they would do that," Gohan murmured, surprised—although he wished wildly that he was _not_ surprised. Bardock nodded.

"I knew they would hurt you and handed you over to them anyway," he clarified evenly, his eyes still locked with the teenager's, so he saw when betrayal crashed into them again. Chichi and Goku shifted uneasily, but remained quiet.

"Hear me, Gohan," Bardock demanded. "I knew what would happen and I gave you over to them counting on it, in fact. I knew that if they didn't, you would not crack, and Fey would not sense you and release her self-imposed hiatus, and we would still be fighting a battle that no one realized we were fighting with Nomad."

"It's all for the greater good," Gohan murmured, running his fingertips against his baby brother's soft cheek.

"Sometimes that's how it works out, Gohan, you should know that by now," Bardock saidas he finished his drink and stood from the table. Gohan was steeped in his own thoughts as Bardock bid his parents and Bird goodbye and started for the door. He stopped, the door in his hand, and turned back to look at Gohan.

"Tomorrow, Gohan, you will need to speak with Fey," he intoned before he stepped out into the night and shut the door behind him. Chichi stood and came around the table to lift Goten from his arms, allowing the limp little boy's head to droop onto her shoulder. Gohan sighed and dropped his forehead onto the table top with a thud.

"Does this crap ever stop?" he asked the room in general. He heard his father shift.

"Son, I know this is a lot for you to take in and that it's overwhelming, but you're not in this alone, remember?"

"I know," Gohan's voice was tired and muffled. The chair scraped as his father stood. In a few seconds, Gohan felt the firm, reassuring feel of his father's hand cupping the back of his neck, and no more words were needed.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

"It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine"

-R.E.M

Nearly two weeks later, Gohan found himself hiding from his new teachers: Bardock and Fey herself. Although Bardock did not so much teach as try to catch him in _not_ _paying attention_, he was there quite often, and there were many times that Gohan wondered what in the world had happened during the two days that he had been out, because he and Goku had an unspoken agreement of some sort, Gohan was sure.

They had fallen into a pretty good routine: Fey would come to his house in the afternoons and instruct him on how to allow the Blaque Stone to reign without taking control—an interesting, difficult feat at first. (Bardock had resorted to all out attacking him when he wasn't paying attention, until Gohan figured it out). He would study for most of the mornings, but for the few mornings he was able to escape and go spar with Piccolo or take a walk with Goten.

Currently, however, he was supposed to be with Fey, but instead, he was walking with Goten cackling madly from where he was perched on Gohan's shoulders, several dozen people staring at them as they strolled down the street to Eighteen and Krillin's house. Bird walked along beside him, trying to both disappear into the asphalt and not laugh at his shenanigans. Of course, she was failing at both.

"Do you think it has upset Chichi that I have been spending time with Eighteen and Krillin?" Bird asked as she nervously twisted her blond hair around her pointer finger. Gohan slung his brother back up onto his shoulders, making the little boy shriek with laughter, and looked over at the girl.

"No! I think Mom is thrilled that you have found the place where you are most happy and comfortable," he said. Bird nodded.

"I do hope that this baby is a girl," she said absently. Goten's eyes grew big.

"I want a little brother!" he protested shrilly. Gohan chuckled and jostled him.

"Sorry, Goten, no one gets a say in what it is," he said. He did shoot Bird a sideways glance.

"What are you saying, exactly? Do you think she has too many boys already?" Bird smiled the easy, loose smile that Gohan had learned to attribute to Bird's evil side. It was the hide-the-pudding-under-Gohan's-pillow smile: in other words, it equated devilish qualities.

"I just think she could use someone who is a bit more capable of taking care of themselves," she said innocently. Gohan narrowed his eyes.

"Babies can't exactly take care of themselves," he returned.

"She would still take less work than you two!" She replied happily. Gohan snarled playfully and lunged at her, but they had made it to Eighteen's house and Bird squealed and rushed into the house. Marron, seeing Gohan go after Bird—whom she had grown quickly attached to—hopped up and latched onto Gohan's left arm for dear life.

"No, no, no, Gohan!" She chanted as Bird dodged Gohan's hands, her cheeks turning quite rosy as they tussled about the living room until Eighteen came in and called it quits. Bird lifted Marron from Gohan's left shoulder, and Goten scooted back up onto his brother's shoulders, looking down at the girls with triumph.

"I am so glad you could come again, Bird," Eighteen said easily. Gohan smiled. This was the fifth time Bird was going to stay the day and night with her mother, and Eighteen had finally begun to loosen up with her. Marron was sold on her sister nearly immediately, but Eighteen had been stiff with her. Not sure what to do about it, Bird had come to him for advice, and Gohan had told her just to wait and to not give up. After the third time, Eighteen seemed to relax a little.

"Gohan, don't you have an appointment with your teachers?" Eighteen asked pointedly. Gohan looked at the floor and fought the urge to ask her if she had been taking lesson from Chichi on how best to cause guilt in one's offspring.

"They were just walking me here," Bird assured her. "He will go straight there now." Gohan tossed her a look, but she was undaunted and smiled in return. Nope, definitely did not need any more females in his life.

"Thank you, Gohan, for walking Bird over, but you need to get back to your tutors before I call and tattle on you," She said as she opened up the door and they stepped outside.

"That isn't necessary," replied a gruff voice near the street. Gohan's heart sank as he turned and found Bardock and his father both waiting for him.

"Oops," Goten breathed. The stark worry in the little voice made Gohan burst out laughing, which was apparently not the best reaction for the moment as Bardock growled and strode forward. The older warrior plucked Goten from Gohan's shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"You're the little miscreant who orchestrated this whole affair aren't you?" he demanded. It had taken a few days for Goten to loosen up around his grandfather, but once he had, he had followed the man around nearly as much as he followed Gohan and Goku around, although he was still understandably cautious with the stern man.

"Did not!" the little boy retorted, giving the man a pouty face. Gohan laughed.

"Nope, it was all me," Gohan admitted. He pressed his wrists together and held them out for his grandfather to see as Goten reached for Goku. "Arrest me for wanting to take a break, then!"

Of course, he should have seen it coming and thus known better. Bardock smirked, and before Gohan could react, the warrior had his wrists bound together with wire.

"Dang it," he muttered. Bardock laughed.

DBZ

Over the past two weeks, Gohan had learned much about the creature known as Fey. For one, she was a powerful telepath and could change small aspects of her physical appearance easily. She was extremely old, and was the last living of her kind, although he could never remember what her kind were called. She had said that he could think of them as The Others because their actual name had long since been forgotten by everyone else.

Once Bardock had finally stopped attacking him, Gohan had figured out that the beginning of control started with a thought. Fey had him meditate several hours a week until he could bring on the change on his own. The first time that Gohan had accomplished it had been a rush, to say the least. The startling power was white hot and more powerful than Gohan knew what to do with. Fey was slowly teaching him how to harness it, though, and he had found out that he could literally clothe himself with the Stone. Fey said it was best if he could use an item to help him focus the energy.

The inhabitants of the ship were, surprisingly, mostly scientists, but they were well trained in combat, and mostly friendly. So friendly, that he got to meet several of the monkey aliens personally (the fact that he nearly destroyed one reflexively was ignored and glanced over by all). Apparently, they were called MOGs, which stands for Monkeys On Ground and they were sent to draw him out and take some of his blood for research. Which is not creepy at all…

He had actually learned a lot from the few scientists that he had been able to meet. For the undetermined derations of Fey's time on earth, the ship was located off planet, so Gohan did not get to know many of them at all. Seriff remained aloof and slightly hostile, no matter what Gohan did.

"You will never learn if you do not stop disappearing," Fey admonished him as Bardock drug him to their normal meeting spot in a clearing several miles from his home. Gohan winced as the older warrior shoved him into the clearing. He turned and gave the man a dirty look.

"Going to let me out of your favorite torture device?" he asked dryly. Bardock crossed his arms over his chest.

"Get out yourself."

"Gohan," Fey began quietly. "You have been doing wonderfully, but unless you focus, you will not succeed. You must try harder." Gohan sighed.

He got it, he really did. There was just so much more that he wanted to do with his life.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching for that deep, bottomless power of his own that was tinted in a red color, and then went past that, to the point where it lost all color: that was the Stone's influence. He grasped it and opened his eyes, bringing it with him. He had learned to temper it, but still, the sight of the brightness that radiated from his chest surprised him.

And through the haze of brightness, Gohan realized again, what he had recently come to understand: he had been given a gift. His gift was the power to protect those he loved, and the people to teach him how to do it. Would it be enough for the rest of his life? Who knew? But for the present, his future was looking pretty good.

The End

_AN: Wow! I have finished this, the second installment of my Blood Lies series! Yikes! I feel as if I have made progress in my style, but I still struggle with organization, if any of you kind readers have noticed. But, alas, my reason for writing…_

_As I write this, I note that this baby is over 72,800 words. Yikes! I am still a little in shock that this is real and truly done. _

_Thank you, any of you who have stood with me through this! I can't express how sad I am that it has taken me SO LONG, but I finally have finished it! And I am pleased where it ended and where all of the guys are. _

_I make no promises to continue in this world, but I may try my hand at a couple of one shots. I would really like to try planning something and having it finished in a short amount of time—I want to see my organization skills get better. For one, I would love to be able to follow an outline ( I truly suck at outlines…and I have tried many many different version of outlines..) So we shall see what comes of this. _

_I am also the world's WORST at replying! I am sure you have ALL noticed this sad little quirk in my personality. I have no excuses! SORRY!_

_To Anthony627AA I thank you for messaging me and apologize for not getting back to you!_

_To Dr. Blue22 I do hope you were pleased with how everything has turned out! I would love to hear your thoughts!_

_To 4starfox Thanks! Let me know what you think!_

_To The Bloody Artist, android727, Sairey13, kittyfiction2008, Rainbow, AuroraDragon,bryer, FloatingCow, shy white wolf, AnimeWolfGirl9, maxriderlover,Nada1224, Bardock821, yesIamheartless, Wow'd, MoonHazels, Bethlovesall: Here you are! Thank you for reading and for posting encouraging reiews and being so VERY understanding for my taking SO LONG! You are all kinder than I certainly deserve!_

_To .7311 HERE YA GO! ^_^ Thank you for likeing it so much that you begged! _

_To hhxh99 A big 'ole Thank you just doesn't seem to be enough for your awesome ego boost, but it's all I have to offer right now! THANK YOU!_

_And to anyone that I did not name, just know that your reviews, comments, messages, and thoughts have meant SO MUCh to me! I wrote this completely for myself, and for my own pleasure, so to see so many of you thrilled to read it has brought me to tears often!_

_I am CONSIDERING writing more, but I make no promises. I have children and teach…that is enough to make a grown man hide! Haha! Thank you all!_

_Until next time, be blessed, and keep on writing!_

_-November_


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